


Male Ordered

by Zorro_sci



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Borderline slavery, Canonical Character Death, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mail-ordered groom, Sorta AU!, Warning! Remembered child abuse, at least different timeline, distrusting!Bruce, dubcon, lonely!Tony, secretive!Bruce
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-19 14:09:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 59,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2391203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zorro_sci/pseuds/Zorro_sci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through a series of unfortunate events, Bruce finds himself being married off through a mail-order service.  His new husband, Tony Stark, is well-known enough it might actually protect him from Ross, but at what cost . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Marketplace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous poster on Avengerskink](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anonymous+poster+on+Avengerskink).



> In response to: [this post](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19023.html?replyto=45434447)

Bruce ran through the marketplace trying to simultaneously avoid attention and move as quickly as he could. Somehow Ross had tracked him down again. He was always finding him. No matter how remote the location, or how well Bruce thought he had stayed hidden, it was really only a matter of time before he was forced to run again to avoid capture.

If he was honest, he was growing tired of the constant running. Living life with one eye watching over his shoulder was no way to live, but he didn't see what the alternatives were. It sure beat being imprisoned and tortured.

He shuddered as he remembered the cold lab tables and sadistic testing he'd been submitted to under Ross' orders. The memories caused him to steal a glance over his shoulder to make sure he'd lost the military men; an action that distracted him long enough that he ran into a man running a market stall.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled in Farsi.

"You are trying escape those American men; are you not?" the man answered, ignoring the apology.

Bruce nodded, knowing that he couldn't plausibly deny it.

"I'll give you a choice then. I can let them know you're here and help them catch you, or you can agree to become a groom for my mail-order marriage service, and I will help you escape," the man explained.

Bruce weighed his options. The men chasing him seemed to have lost him in the crowd, but if this man were to alert them to his presence his current location would not be the easiest to escape from, especially if the vendor tried to impede his progress. Then again, becoming a mail-order groom would essentially mean making himself a slave to some rich person. Most mail-order spouses ended up little more than sex objects and arm candy. However, if he did end up being purchased by someone rich and influential, then Ross wouldn't dare come after him, and he could stop running. He might even be able to have something of a life when his spouse was busy with other things.

"Okay. I'll go with you," he answered.

The man nodded and led him through a series of back alleys to a small building. Once they were inside he snapped a picture of Bruce, made him record a brief message, and then showed him to a small room. The room was slightly more comfortable than a prison cell, but only just. And like a prison cell, the door locked on the outside to keep him from running.

He was a prisoner again, but at least they weren't experimenting on him. Plus, he may actually find himself in a somewhat better situation soon.


	2. Lonely

Tony Stark undid his bow tie in the private elevator on his way back to his penthouse. The event had been boring. Boring, stuffy, and even more intolerable than usual because he was at the event alone. 

He sighed as he strolled out of the elevator into his apartment. It seemed so big and empty. It had since Pepper had left six months ago. He missed her presence by his side, and felt more than a little lonely now that he had the large space to himself.

Still, he couldn't hope to find someone better than Pepper. She knew him better than anyone, and had put up with him and his antics for years as his personal assistant before they started dating. If he couldn't make things work with her, then what chance did he have of making things work with someone else?

No, he was destined to live his life alone. He could always find someone for a one night stand if he got too lonely. Plus, he supposed there were escort services so that he wouldn't have to go to events alone. Honestly though, it would probably be cheaper and easier to get a mail-order bride than train a new escort how to behave each time he had an event.

Now that was an idea. He could get a mail-order bride. Still, it seemed kind of desperate. Then again, he _was_ getting desperate.

"J, bring up the webpage of the mail-order bride service that has the highest satisfaction rate," Tony instructed.

"Right away, sir," the AI intoned as a nearby screen lit up with a website for a company called 'Perfect Match.'

He scrolled through the list of available brides, (and grooms he noted as he continued to make his way down the page). So far none of the pictured candidates really grabbed his attention. He huffed a sigh and was going to give up, it was a ridiculous idea anyway, when the image of a curly-haired man in glasses caught his eye. 

He looked older than the other potential brides and grooms, his face more worn and his eyes more tired. Still, there was something about his fluffy, unruly curls, his world-weary but intelligent dark brown eyes, and his nerdy-looking glasses that was completely adorable. Furthermore, he appeared like the type that would be capable of holding an intelligent conversation at any of the many events Tony was forced to attended.

He clicked the the video icon next to the picture and was pleased to learn that the man was well-spoken. His voice was soft and gentle, but he spoke with authority even as he fidgeted slightly. Besides, the fidgeting just made him that much cuter.

Convinced that this was the one for him, though he hadn't been intending to pick a man, he placed his order and made arrangements to pick up his new husband-to-be as soon as possible.


	3. Husbands-to-be

Bruce was surprised when he was told he would be meeting his intended after less than two days. He had seen some of the others on the website, and knew he was older and less attractive than most of the other candidates. Still, he welcomed the opportunity to leave the small, stuffy, locked room.

At the urging of the man who brought him there, he showered, shaved, and put on a new set of clothes that were provided for him. They wanted him looking his best. They would never let it be said that they offered a second-rate service.

When the man in charge of the operation determined that he was ready, he was loaded into a car and shuttled to the airport. He climbed out of the back of the car in time to see Tony Stark, head of Stark Industries, genius, and Iron Man, climb out of a small private jet.

He watched nervously as Mr. Stark talked to the seller. He knew he was no longer making weapons, but he hadn't forgotten the Hulkbusters that Stark Industries had created. He also sincerely hoped that Stark didn't recognize him, because whether he was making weapons or not he might be inclined to turn him in. The man doubtlessly still had military contacts.

"What's your name?" Tony asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Bruce," he answered quickly.

"Bruce . . . " the billionaire prompted.

Bruce froze. It seemed like he hadn't been recognized, since he had asked for his name, but if he gave his full name he would risk being discovered.

"Does it matter? It will be Bruce Stark soon if everything goes to plan, will it not?" he deflected.

"I suppose so. So then you already know who I am?" Tony replied.

"I imagine there are few people who don't," he answered.

Tony was slightly surprised by the man's snarkiness. He would have imagined that a person in Bruce's situation would be more polite and eager to please their intended for fear of rejection. Not that he was complaining. He found Bruce's willingness to get sarcastic intriguing, and actually a little attractive. It showed that he wasn't just going to be a Stepford wife . . .husband . . .whatever.

"So . . . Bruce . . . . I was thinking we could fly to Vegas and make things official, and then head to my penthouse in New York," Tony explained.

Bruce nodded and said, "Who am I to object?"


	4. Husbands

The wedding was as cliché as every Vegas wedding is. They got married in a 24-hour wedding chapel, their witnesses were the next couple in line, and their rings were purchased in the gift shop. The only stereotype they avoided was the Elvis impersonator, because Tony thought _that_ would be too tacky.

They left Las Vegas as quickly as they had arrived, and flew to New York. Bruce saw Stark Tower from miles out, and he marveled that somehow the events of the last few days led him to marry the owner of such a building, (though admittedly against his will).

The jet landed, and they exited to find a car waiting. 

"Happy!" Tony called as he approached the driver of the waiting car. "I'd like you to be the first person to meet the new Mr. Stark."

He gestured to Bruce, "Happy this is Bruce; Bruce, Happy. He's my driver and head of security at Stark Tower."

"Nice to meet you, Happy," Bruce said, extending a hand.

"Same to you," he said accepting the hand shake.

He grabbed Bruce's single bag and made his way toward the trunk of the car, motioning with his head for Tony to follow while Bruce slipped into the car.

"Are you sure about this, Boss? What do you really know about him? What if he's just trying to get inside information on Stark Industries or Iron Man," he whispered.

"Oh, Happy, have some faith!" he replied jovially, slapping the other man on the back.

He looked over to make sure Bruce was in the car before he dropped his voice and said, "Besides, if the goal was corporate espionage, how would they have known which marriage service I would use? And don't you think they would have picked a blond bombshell, or a fiery redhead? Who would have any reason to believe that a middle-aged guy with wild curls that looked kinda like an absent-minded professor would do it for me? I don't think anyone would have imagined that in their wildest dreams."

"Whatever you say, Boss. But I'm going to keep an eye on him," Happy mumbled.

"Please _do_ keep an eye on him. He's my husband now, so that means he's in for a lot of attention. He doesn't seem like the type who's used to that. Plus, there's always crazies out there, and I won't be happy if I got married only to have my new husband kidnapped or hurt. You saw him. He's pretty scrawny. He doesn't look like he'd be able to defend himself against much, so I'm counting on you to protect him when I'm not there," Tony replied.

Happy nodded shortly, and made his way the to driver's seat. Tony climbed into the back seat with Bruce and turned his mega-watt smile on him.

"Almost home. Wait until you see the inside of the Tower. You'll love it. It's got to beat whatever ramble-shack you were living in up in the mountains of Tajikistan . . . .speaking of, you're clearly an American, how did you end up in Tajikistan? Come to think of it, how did you end up with a mail-order marriage service in Tajikistan?" Tony rambled.

"Long story," Bruce said cryptically.

"I'd love to hear it," Tony prompted.

"Maybe later," the other man dismissed.

"Okay. If you don't want to talk about that maybe we take a different route. Where are you originally from?" Tony tried again.

Bruce paused. He was reluctant to give too much information about himself because he was afraid that Tony would connect the dots, but he decided this question was harmless enough.

"Dayton, Ohio," he answered simply.

"Never been there, but my old man mentioned it a few times. There was a branch of the Manhattan project there. Working with polonium triggers or something," Tony said conversationally.

"I had no idea," Bruce lied, (his father had been among that group of scientists, and had mentioned it frequently in his drunken rantings in later years).

"Seriously, Bruce. What does a guy have to do to get you to say more than two or three words?" Tony said in exasperation; trying to hold a conversation with the other man was like trying to get blood from a stone.

"I don't know," he answered, but he was smirking slightly as he did.

Tony noticed and returned his smirk, "Are you messing with me? Oh, Brucie, I think we're going to have a lot of fun."

 _Well,_ Bruce thought. _I don't know about fun, but things certainly could be worse._


	5. The Tower

"So, what do you think?" Tony asked as he held out his arms to encompass the space in front of him as they entered the lobby of Stark Tower.

"It's nice," Bruce replied simply.

"Would you like the full tour? I mean, this place is your home now," the billionaire offered.

"Sure. Thanks," Bruce answered.

"Still making me work to get more than one or two words I see. Well, maybe something we see with inspire you to say more. . . .so let's start. Right now we're in the lobby. Over there is the security desk," Stark explained as he gestured at the large desk and made a beeline for it.

"Good evening, Tom. I'd like you to meet Bruce," Tony said to the security guard as he indicated the man behind him.

Both Tom and Bruce gave each other a silent wave, but were cut off by Tony before they could speak.

"Bruce is my new husband. He has access to all of the areas I do on this level, including the private elevator, and after this moment no security guard should ever ask who he is or stop him ever again," Tony instructed.

Tom nodded, "Yes sir. And may I say, it's nice to meet you Bruce."

"You too, Tom," Bruce returned warmly, shaking hands with the guard.

After the exchange of pleasantries, Tony continued his tour.

"Down this hall to the left and back in the corner is my private elevator. The only people who have access to it are me, Happy, Pepper, and now you," he informed.

He pressed the button and waited all of three second before the doors opened. Then he quickly walked inside as Bruce followed on his heels.

"Press the button there, the one next to the word 'penthouse,'" Tony directed.

Bruce complied.

"J, use the fingerprint data from the button to give Bruce access to the private elevator and all areas of the lobby and penthouse," Tony instructed the ceiling.

"Right away, sir," a British-sounding mechanical voice answered.

The voice startled Bruce briefly, but then he remembered an article he had read ages ago about Tony's AI. From what he remembered it was very advanced. That must be who he was talking to.

"Bruce, that was JARVIS, my AI. He's installed in all parts of the Tower, and would be more than happy to help you with whatever you need. All you need to do is ask. He has sensors everywhere, so if you address him, he'll respond. JARVIS, this is Bruce."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Nice to meet you too, JARVIS."

"As sir said, I would be happy to help should the occasion arise."

"Thank you."

"So all of the floors we're passing right now are filled with offices and conferences rooms. In other words, boring stuff," Tony informed. 

"If you want, we can tour them after the penthouse, but I assure you that you'd be missing nothing if you decided to skip it," he added after a minute of silence.

Bruce nodded his acknowledgement of the statement, and turned his eyes to the screen at the top of the elevator where it was ticking off the floors as they passed them. What seemed like a lifetime later, the small screen read "penthouse" and the doors opened.

On the other side of the elevator doors was a large, open, modern-looking living room. It had a bar, a fireplace, a sunken space in front of the fireplace covered in plush, white carpet, and another open-space filled with black and white leather furniture arranged around a glass coffee table.

"Welcome to your new home! This is the living room. There's a bar with pretty much any type of alcohol known to man, but if it doesn't have your drink of choice, let me know. I'll be sure to order it in. Speaking of which, what is your drink of choice?"

"Tea."

Tony made a slight gagging noise, but his eyes twinkled with amusement, letting Bruce know he was joking.

"You drink soggy, grass-water? Well, that I _will_ have to order. Make a list of your favorite kinds, and I'll be sure to keep them in stock. 

So, when you drink something a little stronger, what do you like?"

"Virgin screwdrivers, and if I'm feeling really crazy, maybe a virgin Cuba Libre."

"Orange juice and Coke with lime? Really?"

"I don't drink alcohol."

Tony seemed slightly surprised, but let it pass and continued his tour. He led Bruce through a swinging door into a very high tech, and modern looking kitchen. The appliances were all top of the line, but none of them, other than the coffee maker and the refrigerator, looked like they got much use.

"This is the kitchen. It's pretty much a foreign place to me. There's always coffee, cereal and milk. Beyond that there's usually things for sandwiches and smoothies, but I mainly eat takeout. Which I hope works for you, unless you know how to cook. Trust me, you don't want me to cook."

"I can cook."

"Really? Well, if you feel like cooking, give a grocery list to JARVIS, and he'll make sure whatever you need finds its way to the Tower."

They made their way out of the kitchen and down a hallway.

"This is a guest room, and that's another guest room, and then there's one more at the end of the hall. They don't really see a lot of use, but on occasion Rhodey stays here. He's a good friend of mine. You'll meet him eventually. 

This is the study," he narrated as he led Bruce into the room. "I don't use it very often, but you can feel free to spend time here. It'll be plenty quiet, and there's all sorts of books and science journals. I don't know if you like science, but if you do, there's plenty to read."

Bruce debated if he should let on that he liked science. He certainly didn't want Stark knowing he was an expert in gamma radiation, or that he had PhDs in nuclear physics and biochemistry. He would have to keep his level of understanding under wraps, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to let him know he was generally interested.

"That sounds nice. I like science."

Tony's smile intensified, and he met his eyes excitedly. He seemed on the verge of unleashing a flurry of questions, but he seemed to think better of it, and headed toward the door. 

They left the study and headed back into the hallway.

"Bathroom," Tony said pointing at a door before quickly moving on to the next door. "And this, is our bedroom."

Bruce peered through the door to see a California King-sized bed in very comfortable-looking room. It was far better than any accommodations he had ever had in his life, but his stomach turned as he looked at the plush sleeping area and realized that Tony would probably expect him to consummate their new relationship later that evening. The thought made him incredibly nervous. 

Not only did he not really want to, (even though Tony _was_ very attractive), but he was far from sure that he even _could_ have sex without the Other Guy making an appearance. He hadn't engaged in any sexual activity since the accident for that very reason.

Just thinking about the possibility was getting him worked up. He could feel his heart rate increasing with his anxiety, and he had to deliberately calm himself. He took a few deep breaths and tried to reassure himself that he would figure it out. Maybe if he stayed focused on regulating himself instead of what was going on he would be able to make it through the ordeal without smashing his new husband or revealing his big, green secret. He could only hope.

He was lost in thought when Tony came up beside him and spoke.

"So . . . That's pretty much the penthouse. There's a roof patio, if you're interested . . .otherwise that's it," Tony concluded.

Bruce nodded.

"Make yourself at home. I have a few things I need to do, so I'm going to go if you don't mind . . .but I'll be back in a few hours and we can order some food, or go out, or whatever," Tony said.

Bruce nodded again.

Tony paused, his new husband certainly made it really hard to know what he was thinking. He hardly spoke, and his face never really gave anything away. He wasn't sure if Bruce was comfortable enough in his new home for him to leave, but since he wasn't voicing any objections, Tony decided he was going to get on with some of his work in the lab. He would just have to make sure he had JARVIS remind him to come up in time for dinner. It would be rude to work through what should be their first meal together.

"Dinner, then? I look forward to the lively discussion. You know, in two to four word phrases," Tony said as he backed into the elevator.

Bruce watched him go, and then sighed once he was alone. What had he gotten himself into?


	6. Reflection

Now that he was alone, Bruce attempted to sort out the confused jumble of thoughts and emotions in his mind. He had gotten a lot more than he had bargained for with Tony. Sure, he had expected that if someone chose him, he would be married to someone rich and possibly somewhat famous, but he had never imagined that person would be _Tony Stark_ , _the_ most famous billionaire in the world. 

What he had thought might be a little press right after the wedding, maybe a mention in the society page, was bound to be a much bigger deal with Stark. Between his pioneering technology and his role as Iron Man the entire _world_ was watching him much of the time. Bruce wasn't sure he was ready for the scrutiny that was likely to come with his new connection to the billionaire, and Stark seemed to agree from what he had overheard. 

Things were further complicated by the fact that even though Stark hadn't made the connection, (as was made obvious by his plea to Happy to watch out for what he believed to be a defenseless Bruce), his new husband had worked with the one man who hated Bruce more than anything else. More than that, he had designed the only weapon that had ever left a mark on the Other Guy. Had he not decided to leave the weapons industry, Bruce had no doubt that Stark would have been the one to build something that was actually capable of stopping the Hulk. 

Furthermore, he was having a hard time getting a read on Tony. During his time on the run he had learned how to assess a situation quickly, and how to read people. It was the only way he had managed to spot Ross' men in a crowd, to know when a situation was dangerous, or when he needed to move on to a new location. It had served him well, but all his skills seemed to be failing him on Tony.

On the one hand, Tony seemed to be doing whatever he could to make Bruce feel comfortable. He seemed to genuinely want Bruce to feel at home, and if his conversation with his head of security was to believed, he at least cared basically for his safety. Then again, his smile after that conversation had been incredibly fake, and despite his good-humored comments, he seemed to be getting annoyed with Bruce's laconic answers to his questions. Furthermore, he had _ordered_ him, like most people order food in a restaurant or a product from an online retailer, and when you order something it's usually with a specific purpose in mind. A purpose that Tony had yet to make clear, and that made Bruce more than a little nervous.

It wasn't a good situation, but he wasn't sure the alternative was much better. He held no illusions that he could stay in the United States for any significant amount of time without connections to someone with power. He would be too easy to find and capture, and he would quickly find himself back in a military lab. If he left Tony, he would have no other choice but to return to the remote corners of the globe to hide. Only this time, it might not just be Ross and the military on his tail. A certain billionaire might not be so happy that his new husband left, and go looking for him. Whether motivated by pride, paranoia of some sort of information leak, or genuine concern, should Tony decide to pursue him, Bruce had no doubt that with his resources, genius, and dogged determination Tony would likely prove to be much more difficult to shake than the army.

However, staying wasn't guaranteed safety either. Bruce figured that given Tony's high profile status, it was only a matter of time before Ross learned about his new situation. His only hope then was that by that time Ross made his play, that Tony would be willing to stand up for him. If not, he would find himself stuck between two very powerful enemies.

He'd followed the engineer's career for years, and he knew that if Stark identified something as "his" he would fight tooth and nail for it. That was why he had defied the military and the US Senate when they asked for the Iron Man suits, that was why he had taken down entire terrorist cells that had dared to use his weapons, and that was why he reacted so strongly when Obadiah Stane had tried to take over his company. Should he decide to stay, he would need Tony to see him as his, and for that to happen he knew he would have to stop appearing evasive, and stop annoying him. It wouldn't be an easy task, but it seemed the most palatable of his options, and he already had an idea of where he might start in order to cover some of his sins from earlier in the day.

"JARVIS, is there a farmer's market nearby?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, sir. Would you like to order some produce?" the AI replied.

"I'd rather go myself. Where is it located?" he inquired.

"Five blocks to the North and then one block to the East on 66th Street," JARVIS answered.

"Thanks," he called as he made his way to the elevator.

He made his way across the lobby and out onto the bustling streets only to get the horrible feeling that he was being followed.

 _Great. Somehow they already know I'm here. Now what do I do?_ he thought as he purposefully maintained his route and pace to make it seem as if he hadn't noticed the tail.

He walked another block and then lingered in front of a storefront, faking interest in the goods inside. As he did, he saw the reflection of his follower in the glass. . . . Happy. He was being tailed by Stark's head of security. 

Now that he thought about it, that only made sense. Happy had seemed to think Bruce was up to no good, and Tony had asked him to protect Bruce, so of course he was following him.

Relieved to find he had no other people tracking him, he went about his business. He continued to the farmer's market at his leisurely pace, and then went from stall to stall buying produce. He acted as casual as possible, careful all the while to give no indication that he knew Happy was there, even as he kept an eye on the other man the entire time. Then, when he finished his shopping he made his way back to the Tower pretending to be just as carefree as he had throughout the journey.

Finally back at his new home, though he wasn't sure he could think of it that way yet, he crossed the lobby, nodded to Tom, and clambered into the elevator. He sighed as the doors shut. While he was glad that his shadow had been Happy, and not one of Ross' men, the situation couldn't help but remind him of his place in all of this. He was an ordered product. Something to be managed. He was not an equal partner, no matter how kind Stark tried to be to him. Stark held all the cards, and he needed to make sure he kept himself in his good graces. He only hoped that he would be able to convince Tony he was an asset and not a burden.


	7. Dinner

Tony walked out the elevator and was immediately met with a heavenly scent.

"Did you already order dinner? Whatever it is, it smells great," he commented as he made his way toward the kitchen.

He swung open the door and found Bruce pulling a pan out of the oven, and then preparing two plates with the contents of the pan and something from a pot on the stovetop.

"You made this?" Tony said with an edge of awe to his voice.

"I said I could cook," Bruce answered with a grin.

"Yeah, but I thought you meant spaghetti, omelets, easy stuff like that. I didn't think you meant you were some sort of gourmet," he replied.

"Maybe you should try it before you rave about how great it is," the other man cautioned as he brought the plates to the table.

"If it's half as good as it smells you're the best chef I know that doesn't have a Michelin star," Tony insisted.

Bruce blushed slightly, but didn't answer. He just set Tony's plate down in front of him and then made his way to the other side of the table with his own.

"Yours looks different than mine," Tony commented as he looked from one plate to the other.

"Mine is Eggplant Parmesan. I figured you'd rather have Chicken Parmesan, but if I was wrong I have another eggplant. I just didn't think you were a vegetarian," Bruce explained.

"You're right. I'm not," he said as he took a bite of his chicken. "And this chicken is fantastic."

"Thanks," Bruce replied with a shy smile.

"Wait . . .so are you a vegetarian?" Tony asked after he stopped raving over his dinner.

"Yes. Is that a problem?" he asked.

"No, but I'll have to make a call after dinner to make sure they don't try to serve you any meat tomorrow night," Tony answered.

"What's tomorrow night?" Bruce inquired curiously, Tony hadn't mentioned anything earlier.

"Some charity-dinner-fundraiser-event-thing. Saving the rainforest or panda bears or harp seals or something. They all sort of blend together after a while, but apparently it's important that I keep going to them. Keep the company out there and associated with the right causes or whatever," Tony said casually with a dismissive wave of his fork.

"Oh?" Bruce questioned neutrally.

"Speaking of which, we'll have to go get you fitted for a tux tomorrow. It's black tie. Don't worry though, I've got a great suit guy. We'll get it all sorted out . . . Mmmmmm . . .gotta give it to you. You really can cook," Tony rambled.

The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence, though Tony did occasionally break the silence to comment on how good the food was. Bruce smiled politely at the compliments, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about the role he was supposed to play the following night. Was he supposed to stay by Tony's side and smile like a doting husband? Was he expected to go off on his own and socialize; make connections? Was he supposed to run interference for Tony if someone was bothering him? He hoped he was able to follow Tony's cues well enough to know. Then there was the issue of who would be there. Would there be press? Who else would be at the event? Would anyone recognize him? He certainly hoped not, but only time would tell.


	8. A riddle

Tony paced the living room floor still holding his phone in his hand. He'd already made the necessary calls, it had been easy enough, but he was feeling restless. His mind kept wandering to Bruce. He knew so little about him, and what he did know just raised more questions, the principle among them being how a man from Ohio ended up choosing to be matched through a mail-order marriage service based in Tajikistan.

Most people who participated in mail-order marriage services were looking for a way to legally enter the United States, but as far as Tony could tell, Bruce already was an American citizen. Some people participated hoping to come into money, since most people who found spouses though such services were rich, but Bruce had signed the pre-nuptial agreement without a question, and if anything, he had seemed slightly appalled by all the displays of wealth in his new home, (though he had tried to hide it). So, if he wasn't looking for a way into the US, or to come into money, why had he agreed to be a mail-order groom? That question continued to bother Tony.

Well, that and half a dozen others. Why was Bruce in Tajikistan; work, adventure, trying to hide off the grid? Why was he so secretive about his life? He wouldn't even tell Tony his last name! And the more he asked about Bruce's life, the more evasive he got. What, was he some sort of fugitive? That seemed pretty unlikely. Bruce didn't look like the type who would, or even could, hurt a fly. So why was he so intent on revealing as little as possible about himself? 

Tony peeked into the kitchen, where Bruce was still cleaning up after dinner. His curls were even more unruly than earlier, probably from the heat of standing over the stove earlier that evening, but despite his rumpled state, he looked adorable. How did he manage to do that? 

Bruce seemed to sense he was being watched, and lifted his head suddenly. His eyes met Tony's, and he gave him an uncertain half smile. Tony returned it with a huge grin, but internally he was processing new data. There had been a wild look in Bruce's eyes when he realized he was being watched. It was only there for a split second, but Tony had seen it. What would cause that look? Why did Bruce seem so nervous? Did he have a reason to be so paranoid about being watched?

Futhermore, the more closely Tony looked at him, the more familiar Bruce seemed. It was as if he knew him from somewhere, but he couldn't identify exactly where. Though he couldn't imagine where the two of them would have met more than in passing. Bruce clearly was not wealthy nor had he come from wealth, and he wasn't a scientist, so there was little likelihood that Bruce had ever run in the type of circle that Tony did. Still, there was something about him that seemed to stir his memory in a way that a passing acquaintance never could.

In short, Bruce was a riddle, or perhaps a complicated equation, but Tony would solve him either way. That was what he did. Tony was a genius, and no mysterious, adorably geeky man was going to best him. It was only a matter of time until he figured out all of what Bruce was trying to hide, and if Bruce made it difficult for him, all the better. It had been a while since he'd faced a real challenge.


	9. Different circumstances

Bruce was scrubbing the kitchen counter when he felt eyes on him. He cautiously raised his head to take in his surrounding, every nerve at alert, only to remember that he was in Tony Stark's penthouse, (his new home he supposed), and he was being watched by Tony himself. Hoping he hadn't given too much away with his hyperviligiance, he met Stark's gaze and gave him a weak smile. Maybe he would just think Bruce was incredibly self-conscious. It would certainly be better than the billionaire realizing that his highly attuned senses came from years of practice on the run.

Stark flashed him a huge grin, but his eyes were inquisitive, and Bruce felt his stomach drop. Tony looked like he was trying to solve him like some sort of equation, and that was the last thing Bruce needed. Though maybe he was reading too much into Stark's expression. He could just be being paranoid, (though he somehow doubted it). 

"Soooo . . . . " Tony started, drawing the word out almost impossibly long. 

"Yes?" Bruce asked.

"Dinner was great, thanks again . . . What do you want to do now? We could watch a movie, or something . . . Or maybe you're tired . . . I suppose it's been a kinda long day and you might be jet-lagged, so you might want to go to bed . . . Or whatever . . ." Tony rambled.

Bruce was surprised at how awkward the usual confident billionaire seemed at the moment. He wondered why that was. Stark certainly didn't have any reason to be self-conscious, or any need to try to impress Bruce. Still, it was sort of endearing that he was flustered.

"I am actually pretty tired," Bruce replied, seizing on the opportunity to go straight to bed without being bedded. It wasn't that what he said wasn't true, he was exhausted, but he would be lying if he said the prospect of putting off sex wasn't even more appealing than getting some desperately needed sleep.

"Alright. . . . Good night. I have some work I'd like to finish before I go to bed. I'll join you later," Tony commented as he made his way to the elevator.

"Good night," Bruce called as the doors shut.

He stared at the elevator doors a few moments longer, and then started getting ready for bed. The en suite bathroom for the master bedroom was huge, larger than some of the shacks that Bruce had lived in within the last few years, and was almost intimidating to use. His eyes wandered its expanse, taking in all of its luxuries as he brushed his teeth, and he wondered if he could ever get used to these types of displays of wealth.

Once he finished, he climbed into the ridiculously large bed, and curled up under the down comforter. The mattress was without a doubt one of the most comfortable things he had ever tried to sleep on, but he still found himself tossing and turning. He couldn't stop all of the thoughts and fears that invaded his mind as he tried to find a bit of peace and drift off for some much needed rest.

Some of his concerns from earlier in the day continued to plague him, but along with them came new worries. What if Tony got so curious he ran a facial recognition search and discovered who he was? How would he react? Would he be upset with Bruce for hiding his identity? Would he understand? What if he embarrassed him at the event the following night? He didn't really have much experience with charity dinners. He was hoping he would be able to learn on the fly, he was a quick study, but what if he couldn't? What if he was incredibly awkward? Speaking of awkward . . .Bruce thought again about the near inevitable consummation of their marriage. 

When Bruce had agreed to be a mail-order groom he knew that he would likely have to sleep with whomever he married, but he had agreed anyway. He hadn't had much choice at the time, and he had certainly done worse in his quest to avoid Ross and his men. He figured it wouldn't be the end of the world to occasionally bed some rich person in order to escape capture. It wasn't an ideal situation, but it wasn't an impossible sacrifice either. Still, now that he was actually facing the real possibility of having sex with Tony, the mere thought of it made his stomach turn. He was much more put off by the idea than he had ever anticipated he would be, and it had nothing to do Tony's sex appeal, (which was actually pretty high).

The problem was more in his feeling that to allow things to become sexual between them, when the basis of their relationship was Tony's loneliness and Bruce's desire to avoid being captured by Ross, was essentially to whore himself out in exchange for relative comfort and safety. That would have been the situation regardless of who he married, but somehow the fact that his new husband was Tony Stark brought that tidbit into a more sharp focus. Perhaps because under different circumstances he could have seen the two of them being colleagues, equals; not a desperate billionaire and his bed warmer. But that world was never to be.

After a few hours of relentless thoughts taunting him on repeat, reminding him of every difficulty and problem in his new situation, he finally quieted his mind enough to sleep.


	10. Who are you?

"I can't explain it J, but Bruce looks familiar. But where would I have seen him before? It just doesn't make sense," Tony said as he paced his workshop.

"I could run facial recognition, sir," the AI suggested.

"No, that's like looking at the answer in the back of the book," Tony dismissed.

"If you say so, sir," JARVIS returned.

"Why don't we look at birth records instead? All baby boys named 'Bruce' born in Dayton, Ohio between thirty-five and forty-five years ago," Tony instructed.

"Is this not cheating as well, sir?" the AI asked.

"No, running facial recognition would just give me the answer. This actually involves using what I've learned about Bruce to help me figure out who he is," the billionaire countered.

"If you say so, sir," the AI intoned dubiously. "There are thousands of birth records for boys named 'Bruce' in Dayton, Ohio."

"Narrow down the list to only those who lived in New Mexico as adults," Tony instructed.

"Why New Mexico, sir?" JARVIS inquired.

"Because even though I didn't get a close enough look at Bruce's ID when he showed it to the clerk to see his name, I was able to tell it was a New Mexico driver's license. He must have lived there at some point," Tony reasoned.

"Very well, sir. There are twelve people matching your description."

"Pull up their driver's licenses."

Twelve different driver's licenses appeared on the screen, and twelve strange men stared back at him from their DMV photos. None of them was his Bruce.

How could that be! Bruce said he was from Dayton, and unless his ID was fake, it was definitely from New Mexico. Was he wrong about the other man's age? He would gave guessed Bruce to be forty, plus or minus two years, so he thought the thirty-five to forty-five window was more than generous enough. Though some people just don't look their age . . . 

"J, expand the age range on the birth certificate search five years in either direction."

Surely Bruce couldn't be less than thirty or over fifty.

"There are two new results using the new parameters."

Tony looked expectantly at the screen, silently wondering if Bruce was older or younger than he appeared, only to be disappointed again. The two new photos looked nothing like Bruce either. He cursed under his breath. This was far more difficult than he had anticipated.

"Perhaps he was not born in Dayton, Ohio, sir?" JARVIS suggested. "Maybe he moved there as a young child?"

"Run census records in Dayton, Ohio for that same time window. Look for children named Bruce."

"Five additional results."

Five more faces peered out from the holo-screen, but once again, none of them were Bruce's. Tony let out a frustrated growl. Where was he going wrong?

"I'll try again tomorrow," he grumbled as he left the lab.

Maybe fresh eyes would help. Or maybe he could wheedle some additional information out of Bruce. At any rate, he was far from ready to give up.


	11. Bruce's new suit

Bruce was startled to awareness. There was someone approaching him. He pretended he was still asleep and listened carefully. The footfalls were soft, like bare feet on carpet . . .nothing like the sound of boots on a dirt floor like he was expecting. 

"Get up sleepy-head! We have a lot to do today . . .and I made you a mug of soggy grass water . . . I'm not sure I did it right . . .but I tried. I also got you a muffin . . .blueberry . . . I hope you like blueberry . . . You're not allergic to blueberries are you?" a voice rambled at breakneck pace.

Bruce puzzled for a split second who was speaking before he remembered the bizarre situation that was now his life. He opened his eyes slowly, and carefully sat up in a bed that was far too big and much too soft. As soon as he was upright, Tony thrust the muffin and mug of tea at him and looked at him expectantly.

Bruce blinked at him and then said, "Yes, I like blueberries. Thanks."

He carefully took the items from Tony, and sipped the tea as the billionaire looked at him pointedly as if to ask how it was. Tony had over-steeped the tea, but Bruce pasted a smile on his face and nodded in acknowledgment anyway. Then he followed it up with a bite of the muffin.

"So the tailor will be here in half an hour, you should probably get ready. I asked him to put a rush on it, so he'll get your measurements this morning and then he'll be back by this afternoon with the suit for a final fitting," Tony explained.

He looked Bruce over and then added, "Are those the only clothes you have? I was just thinking . . . I haven't ever seen you wear anything else, though I guess I haven't known you that long . . . . But you slept in them . . .so maybe they are . . . What I mean is, if you don't have anything else to wear you can borrow something from my closet. I think we're about the same size."

"Thanks," Bruce replied, wondering if Tony's default way of talking was the rambling he'd observed over the last two days.

"No problem. I'll leave you to it," Tony called over his shoulder as he left the room.

Bruce sighed as the door shut. Tony was a lot to take in the morning. He seemed to always be moving and speaking a hundred miles a minute. Although, now that the room was quiet, Bruce almost missed the other man's energetic presence. There was something endearing about it.

Wasting no time, Bruce finished his breakfast and made his way to the bathroom. He showered in the largest shower he had ever seen, and felt like he nearly got lost looking for the soap. Then, once he had finished with the bathroom, he wandered into the closet.

The closet was even larger than it original appeared when Bruce had peered into it, and he was certain that a family of four could probably live in it. In some of the countries he had traveled to, a family would be lucky if they were only trying to fit four people into that amount of space. With that in mind, he tried to pick something simple, and hopefully not too expensive, from the racks and racks of clothing that surrounded him. In the end, he went with a simple pair of black dress pants and a solid yellow button down shirt.

Finally ready for the day, Bruce made his way out of the bedroom and into the living room. He was greeted by a whistle and turned in time to see Tony purposefully eying him up and down.

"You look good in my clothes. No offense to you, or what you were wearing yesterday . . .you still looked fine . . .but in some clothes that actually fit . . .let's just say it's not unattractive," Tony commented, his expression noticeably lustful.

Bruce blushed and did his best not to squirm under Tony's scrutiny. It boded well for him that the other man found him attractive. Still, he was far from comfortable with the way Tony was looking at him.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any better looking, then you had to go and do that," the billionaire said gesturing at Bruce's flushed face.

"Sir, the tailor has arrived," JARVIS interrupted, much to Bruce's relief.

Having a stranger hover around him to take his measurements was definitely not high on Bruce's list of things he enjoyed, but at the moment it seemed preferably to having Tony openly ogle him, so he followed the tailor into the study and let him get on with it. The process was painfully slow, but every second he was in the study was one less second he was being stared at by . . . Well, by his husband he supposed, but still that didn't make it any less uncomfortable.

When the tailor left, Bruce left the study to find that Tony was no longer in the penthouse. He'd probably made his way down to his workshop, but then again, that was probably for he best. 

With nothing else to do, Bruce made his way back to the study. He'd seem several scientific journals that had peaked his curiosity. He supposed it might be kind of risky to delve into complex scientific reading since he was trying to conceal his identity, but then again, Tony admitted that he rarely used the study. And he could always claim that he didn't truly understand what he was reading if he was questioned about it.

The day passed quickly, and before Bruce knew it he was trying on the suit he was going to wear later that night. As the man who had brought it asked him to turn so that he could check the fit, Bruce marveled both at how well the garment fit and how quickly they had been able to get it ready. He guessed a lot of things were possible when one had a lot of money at their disposal, (though he really didn't want to think about how much the suit cost). Well, at least he would be presentable later that night as he made his way to the "dinner, fundraiser, charity, thing" with Tony.


	12. Fundraiser-Dinner-Charity-Thing

Tony make his way up from the lab, and found Bruce waiting for him in his new suit. It fit perfectly, highlighting his shoulders and small waist. 

"If I had known what was waiting for me, I wouldn't have taken so long to get up here. You look amazing in a suit, Bruce," Tony purred as he closed into the other man's personal space.

"Your tailor is amazing. It's a very nice suit," Bruce returned.

"It's not the suit that caught my eye," he answered, his tone sultry while he openly ogled Bruce with his eyes sweeping up and down his form.

Bruce cast his eyes to the floor to avoid looking at the hunger in Tony's. It made him very uncomfortable. It was also completely foreign to him. No one had ever looked at him with so much blatant sexual interest.

"And there's that sexy blush again," Tony commented, which of course only caused Bruce to flush deeper.

"So . . . .when do we have to be there?" Bruce asked, hoping to change the subject.

"I think it starts at eight," Tony mused.

Bruce looked at the clock, it was eight thirty. He was about to tell Tony as much, when the billionaire seemed to notice his time check and continued.

"So, I was thinking we could try to get there around nine fifteen, nine thirty. Make an entrance," Tony explained.

Bruce nodded. Of course someone like Tony Stark couldn't actually be bothered to be on time. 

Tony slipped into the bedroom and came out half an hour later, looking far more attractive then Bruce was willing to admit to himself, (because he was not looking, or thinking that), and wearing a ridiculously expensive and flashy pair of sunglasses and a watch that could be described exactly the same way. In fact, Bruce was so caught up in not looking, that he missed that Tony was reaching out toward him.

"Shall we?" he asked, noticing how spaced out Bruce seemed. "Happy's waiting with the car."

Bruce shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, and smiled and nodded. He followed a step behind as they made their way down to the where the car was waiting in front of the Tower.

It seemed to Bruce like they had barely entered the car before they were climbing out again. Tony got out first, and then offered Bruce his arm. He accepted the arm and linked his own with Tony's, trying not to look as awkward as he felt. He wasn't really one for physical contact, but if it was what Tony wanted he wasn't going to deny him.

They walked up to the door of building, (a fancy hotel?), and a doorman opened the door for them. Then they made their way through the lobby to a large ballroom. The room was filled with people, all dressed very elegantly, mingling or dancing as a string ensemble played soft music, but most of them seemed to stop what they were doing and look up as Tony entered the room.

The sudden presence of scores of eyes on them made Bruce feel very fidgety. He wanted to run the other way to avoid the attention, but he knew he couldn't, so he did his best to paste on a smile and trample down the feeling.

"You seem nervous," Tony leaned close to whisper into his ear as they made their way further into the room.

"I'm not a big fan of crowds, but I'm fine," he murmured back.

"Tony! You made it!" some man called, throwing his hands in the air with exaggerated excitement, as he came up to greet them.

He stopped in front of them and looked Bruce over, his gaze very judgmental.

"Who's this? I haven't had the pleasure," he said overly-formally.

"Scott, this is my husband, Bruce," Tony introduced, unlinking their arms as he made the introduction. "Bruce, this is Scott Lewson, the CEO of Lewson Enterprises. They specialize in aluminum-based products."

"Nice to meet you," Bruce said as he reached out to shake the hand offered to him.

"You too," Lewson returned, before turning back to Tony. "Husband? That must be a pretty recent development. Last I heard, you were trying to get over that assistant of yours . . . something Potts?"

"Pepper," Tony supplied. "Yes, well, that was a while back. I moved on. I met Bruce, and we just clicked. But, yes, we did just get married."

"Still in the honeymoon phase then?" he said with a wink.

Bruce felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"I guess you could say that . . .well, nice to see you," Tony dismissed, putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder to lead him away.

"Tony, good to see you," an older woman said as they walked past her on their attempt to get away from Lewson. "And who is this handsome man you have with you? Please tell me he's available. I'm in the market for a new husband, and he seems incredibly sweet. Nothing like the last old goat."

"Sorry, Harriet, this one is mine," he responded, wrapping his arm around Bruce's waist. "Let me introduce you to my husband, Bruce."

"Husband? Shame. If he was just your boyfriend I might have made a play for him anyway," she commented; then she reached out a hand and said, "Harriet LeBeau."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Bruce said, shaking her hand.

"And such manners. Are you sure I can't convince you to part with him? I haven't really known you to favor men anyway. Aren't you usually the man who leaves with a woman on each arm? He must be pretty special," she sighed.

"He is," Tony said simply, taking the opportunity to end the conversation and walk away.

"Stark!" someone called from behind them, and Tony turned to see who the owner of the voice was.

Bruce followed his lead, and turned around in time to see a tall blond man in a tuxedo and a red bow tie approaching them.

"I heard you got married . . .and to a man, nonetheless," the blond stranger said.

"I guess word travels fast," Tony commented lightly.

"It does in a place like this," the other man replied. 

Tony just nodded, and the other man seemed to notice Bruce for the first time. His eyes looked him over, and then looked questioningly back at Tony.

"Is this him?" he asked, gesturing toward Bruce.

"Yes, allow me to introduce you to my husband, Bruce," Tony said.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Gavin Jorgensen," the blond man said as he held out a hand to Bruce.

Bruce politely shook his hand, and automatically parroted the sentiment, wondering if his whole night was going to consist of interactions like this.

"I have to say, you're not at all what I expected," Gavin commented casually, but it was clear that a thinly-veiled insult was about to follow. "No offense, but I never thought Tony would go for a guy . . .and if he did, I thought he'd be more of a Fabio-type."

"Fabio? Really? First of all, no. I'm not a middle-aged housewife who obsessively reads romance novels. Second of all, you need to update your references," Tony scoffed.

The other man shrugged, and Tony rolled his eyes and ended the conversation by leading Bruce to the bar.

He took a double Scotch from the bartender, and sat down heavily nearby to start drinking. Bruce was going to sit beside him, but suddenly Tony knocked back the drink and dragged him out onto the dance floor, (apparently to avoid a couple that was approaching them). 

In some ways, the change was welcome. People seemed much more reluctant to approach them while they danced. On the other hand, Bruce felt incredibly awkward. He wasn't much of a dancer anyway, and he had never danced with a man. At the moment, he was finding it very hard not to try to lead, and at times it was causing brief power struggles between him and Tony as they each tried to take control.

Finally, they worked out a rhythm as Bruce managed to let Tony guide them.

"I'm sorry," Tony whispered, after he had pulled the two of them almost obscenely close together so that they wouldn't be overheard. "I know this is a lot to take in, and most of the people here are assholes. . . .but on the bright side, they'll be serving dinner in another ten or so minutes, and then we only have to survive another two or three hours before we can go home."

"Just two or three more hours, huh?" Bruce commented back in amusement.

"Tops. If I donate a little bit more to the cause, we might be able to get out in an hour and a half."

"Speaking of, what is the cause?" 

"Well, there's a panda, a baby harp seal, and a tiger on the banner above the door, so I'm going with something to do with endangered species."

Bruce laughed softly.

"Do you really go to so many of these that you can't keep them straight?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"I have a feeling I'm going to learn."

"Hey, if I have to suffer, you do too. I think that was in the marriage vows."

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't."

"Sure it was. Plus you own half of everything I do, so that means you own half of the suffering at all of the fundraising events."

"Actually, I signed a pre-nup."

"Yeah, but that only goes into effect if we get divorced."

"Wait, so you get to keep all of the suffering if we get divorced?"

Tony chuckled at his mock-offended tone.

"You know, you're pretty clever when you speak in more than three word phrases. I think you've spoken more in the last three minutes than you have since I met you. What finally loosened your tongue? Is it the dancing? Because we could dance more. I know it's not the alcohol, because you haven't had any."

"Maybe, or maybe I just prefer your company to anyone else here."

"Of course you do. I'm the only one here who's not a smug, judgmental bastard or a blue-hair cougar."

"Right. I mean what you just said was not at all judgmental or smug."

"Ok, fine. . .but I'm not a cougar looking for husband number four."

"And I appreciate that . . ."

"Look at them. Pulled close together like teenagers and whispering in each other's ears. Do you remember when we were like that, Ted?" a woman's voice said from somewhere beside them.

"Really, Madeline? Do we have to do this? What if they hear you? You're doing nothing to keep you voice down," a man, who must have been Ted, scolded.

"So what if they hear me? I'm not saying anything rude, I just think they're cute! It's sweet that they're still in their honeymoon phase," Madeline countered, even louder than before, in offense.

"If they couldn't hear you before, they certainly can now! And no man likes to be called cute Madeline! I'm sure they don't appreciated you commenting on them at all, much less like that!" Ted yelled back.

"Ted! Madeline! So nice to see you both," Tony said, grabbing Bruce's hand and walking up to the bickering couple.

"See he heard you," Ted muttered, much less quietly than he probably intended, to his wife; then he turned toward the two men in front of him with a smile that was obviously fake and returned the pleasantry. "Tony! And this must be the new husband everyone is talking about."

"Bruce," he said as he extended his hand.

"Ted Dern, and this is my wife, Madeline," the other man returned as he shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Madeline," Bruce said with a polite nod in her direction.

"It's been a while," Tony said conversationally. "I probably should have sought you guys out earlier, but you know how it is, newly married, and I only have eyes for this guy," he looked at Bruce with over-the-top adoration in his eyes. "I guess we're just still in our honeymoon phase."

Madeline smiled at them widely, and Ted muttered something about how it was fine. Then Bruce and Tony walked away and the couple could be heard arguing even more loudly than before about whether or not Tony had been offended by their earlier squabble, and the secret messages that were or were not in what he just said.

"You're evil. You did that on purpose!" Bruce whispered accusingly into Tony's ear as they walked away.

"Oh come on! They were talking about us so loud I'm sure they heard them the next building over . . .and tell me that wasn't fun," Tony returned.

Dinner was served shortly after that, and throughout the meal Bruce and Tony had to explain that yes, Bruce was a vegetarian, and no, Tony didn't have a problem with it, and no, he was not trying whatever 'new no meat fad diet' that they thought they heard about from a friend of a friend.

The rest of the night played out fairly similar to the first hour. People came up, asked about Bruce, shot him some judgmental looks, (or worse, overtly sexual stares), introduced themselves and left. So it went most of the night, the only respite being when they were on the dance floor, or when Tony was at the bar, and even then people still talked about them loudly behind their backs.

When they finally left, Bruce couldn't help but sigh as the car door closed behind them.

"Now you know how I feel," Tony said. "I've been to more of these things than I can count, and they're all as mind-numbingly boring as this one. Drunk, rich people are dull, self-important, gossips . . .if anything, this was _less_ painful because we were the topic of conversation, which led to the added bonus of embarrassing people who were talking loudly about us behind our backs."

"That's a bonus?" Bruce asked dubiously.

"Yes. Believe me, once you know what the alternative is, you'll think so too."

"I shudder to think . . . . ."

"Now, for the _actual_ fun part of the evening. Let's get home and get you out of that suit."

Bruce actually had to suppress a real shudder when he heard that. He still wasn't ready, but he guessed that he couldn't wait forever.


	13. The first time

Tony laid in his bed with Bruce asleep beside him, his soft breathing the only sound in the room. Lit by the glow of the arc reactor, Bruce's curls framed his face like a halo, and Tony was struck by how much younger he looked when his face was relaxed.

He thought back on the night. Bruce had clearly been uncomfortable at the fundraiser, but he did a good job of making nice with the annoying people, and Tony really couldn't have asked for a better partner-in-crime. Bruce seemed irritated by the same things he was, and more than willing to go along with Tony's schemes to call out people when they were being assholes, even if he did scold him afterwards, (and even then he did so with a twinkle in his eye). 

The snarky, devious side he had seen to Bruce was a welcome surprise. He had suspected that it might exist after some of his sarcastic jabs he had made when they met, but seeing it in full action had been a highlight of the night. The snark plus the suit and Bruce's ever-messy curls had been quite the sexy combination. He had been more than ready to help Bruce out of his new garment when they got home. Bruce, however, did not seem as eager. 

When they arrived in the penthouse, Tony had pressed Bruce up against the door and captured his mouth in a bruising kiss. Bruce went along with it, but he seemed half-hearted in his reciporation. 

"Are you alright?" Tony had asked, noticing the other man's seeming hesitancy.

"Yeah," Bruce answered quickly, (almost too quickly). "It's just been awhile for me."

"We don't have to . . . ."

"I'm okay, just, maybe, could we take it slow? If you don't mind . . ."

Bruce fidgeted adorably and stared at the floor as he spoke, and it really wasn't all that big of a request. How could Tony deny him?

"Yeah, of course . . . ."

They went back to kissing, at a much less furious pace this time, but Bruce's shoulders stayed taut with tension.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Bruce? . . . I mean, you have had sex with a man before, right? . . . . I guess I kinda assumed that you had, since you were open to marrying a man . . . But you seem really nervous."

"I'm fine. Really . . .and yes, but like I said, it's been awhile."

"I'm not trying to pressure you into something that you're not ready fo . . .mmph."

Tony was cut off by Bruce re-initiating the kiss. This time, he was insistent, and almost aggressive, and Tony allowed himself to stop worrying and just get lost in the moment. Surely, if Bruce really didn't want to he wouldn't be so determined in his advances.

Still, thinking back on the experience, Tony wondered if he had somehow pushed too hard. While the sex hadn't been bad, there were certainly things that were strange about it. Like the moments where Bruce would close his eyes and take deep breaths as if he were trying to calm himself. There were also points where Bruce seemed to be doing anything to avoid meeting Tony's eye, (including some amazingly bendy things that Tony would like to use for far different purposes in the future), and one time when he did, Tony swore his eyes looked bright green instead of brown, (which must have been some trick of the light, but still, it was weird). He wouldn't say that Bruce wasn't into it, exactly, but he also wouldn't say Bruce seemed that excited by it either. He just hoped Bruce hadn't felt pushed into anything, (because really, what kind of husband would he be if he did that?). 

Maybe it was just awkward because it was their first time? They had come together under such strange circumstances, their first sexual encounter was bound to be a little awkward. They really didn't know each other all that well; they were little more than strangers. In someways that made their first time akin to picking up some random person in a bar for a night of sex. However, despite their limited knowledge of each other, they were married, so after the deed was done, they still had to live together until death, (or divorce), parted them. Still, they had made it through, and maybe it would be better next time now that they'd finally "consummated the marriage," so to speak? He could only hope.


	14. Breakfast

_At least I didn't turn,_ Bruce thought as he transitioned into his next pose. _It could have been so much worse . . .but it was really awkward . . .and the way Tony stared at me after he thought I was asleep . . ._

He tried to clear his mind and focus on his posture, the stretch in his muscles, and taking deep, slow breaths, but he was failing. No matter how mindful he tried to be of what he was doing, he found his thoughts wandering. 

"Yoga, huh?" Tony said, further ruining Bruce's concentration. "Is that why you're so flexible?"

"I suppose," Bruce agreed, surrendering his attempt.

"Don't stop on my account."

"I was pretty much done anyway."

"Too bad . . . I was enjoying the view."

Tony winked and smirked, and Bruce flushed deeply. He didn't think that he would get used to the way Tony looked at him any time soon. Even after the pointedly sexual leers that some of the people at the event the previous night had given him, there was something about Tony's gaze that was uncomfortable in a way their lustful ogling could never be. It was hard to put his finger on, but there was something more to the way Tony looked at him that was both disconcerting, and yet almost reassuring at the same time. It was like Tony could see right through him, but he liked what he saw.

"Why don't I make us some omelets?" Bruce suggested in an attempt to change the subject, and perhaps divert attention from himself.

"That sounds really good," Tony agreed.

They entered the kitchen, and Tony made a beeline for the coffee maker while Bruce headed for the fridge. 

Several minutes later, Tony was on his second cup of coffee, (having downed his first one as quickly as possible before pouring a second cup to savor more slowly), and Bruce was setting a plate down in front of him. Tony was quick to start in on his breakfast. He practically attacked the egg dish with his fork.

"Denver omelet? That's my favorite. How did you know? Or are you just really good at this game?" Tony asked.

"I asked JARVIS," he replied from his spot over by the stove, he put his own omelet on a plate and joined Tony at the table. "I hope that's okay."

"If you're going to make me amazingly delicious food, you can ask JARVIS whatever you want about what I like," Tony commented.

He backed his comment by taking another bite of his omelet and making a show out of enjoying it.

"Glad you like it."

"How could I not? Your cooking is amazing. You didn't used to be a chef or something did you?"

Tony waited expectantly. He was pretty sure that despite Bruce's skill in the kitchen the answer was 'no,' but he was hoping the other man would reveal something in the process of answering his question. Besides, it didn't hurt to compliment Bruce's cooking since he did really enjoy it.

Bruce chuckled and shook his head.

"No. Besides, I thought you said omelets were on the list of 'easy stuff,' the other day."

"I did. Most people can make an omelet. But not everyone can make an omelet that's this amazing . . . So if you weren't a chef, what did you do?"

"I've done lots of different things."

Tony sighed at Bruce's vague answer.

"Such as . . .?" he prompted.

"At one point I worked in a bottle factory. I've been a janitor at a few different places. You know, whatever work I could find."

Something about that statement seemed off to Tony. While he didn't doubt that Bruce was probably telling the truth, the other man had an air about him that screamed he was an educated professional. It may very well be true that Bruce hadn't worked in his field of study for many years, and that he had done odd jobs to get by. However, Tony would be willing to bet a sizable amount of money that Bruce did have some sort of field of study that he had worked in for several years before that. Still, he seemed to be getting more and more evasive, so Tony was trying to decide whether or not he should let the subject drop for the time being when JARVIS interrupted them.

"Sir? I do not mean to interrupt but Ms. Potts wishes to remind you that you have a board meeting in four days. She also said that you should make sure your designs for the ideas you are supposed to be presenting should be done by then as well."

"Right . . . I forgot all about that . . . How do they expect me to have enough time to go to board meetings and invent things if they keeping making me go schmooze at all of those galas and charity fundraisers? . . . Alright, well I better get to work. . . I'll be in the lab of you need me," Tony said as he quickly finished his breakfast and made his way to the elevator.

Bruce watched him go and then started on the dishes. Another day alone in the penthouse. It was strange to not have something he _needed_ to do, but at least he could catch up on some reading. So, as soon as the kitchen was clean, he made his way to the study and settled in with a stack of scientific journals.


	15. Pepper

"Sir, Ms. Potts would like to speak to you," JARVIS announced.

"Well, I don't want to talk to her," Tony returned quickly, not even looking up from his work.

"Tony?" Pepper's voice rang through the speakers. "Tony? I know you're there."

"Pepper, hi! I'm just working on those designs you reminded me about. The ones for that board meeting . . . You know the one in four days . . .Which I will totally try to go to . . .so . . . Very busy. Can this wait?"

"Tony, what's this I hear about you going to the Endangered Species Gala with your new husband? Was that supposed to be some sort of publicity stunt? The board is not happy. And who is the poor guy you got to pretend to be your husband?"

"Why are you so sure he was pretending?"

"I think I would know if you got married, Tony. You haven't so much as dated anyone since we broke up. How am I supposed to believe you got married?"

"I did! And you can tell the board to calm down. Bruce was perfectly charming, and everyone loved him at the gala-thing yesterday. . . .some of them were assholes and acted like he wasn't good-looking enough for me, which is just stupid, because even though he's hot in a nerdy professor sort of way, he's insanely hot . . .but general consensus was that he was polite and well-spoken, and we made a cute couple."

"Bruce? Who's Bruce?"

"My husband. Didn't you listen to anything I just said?"

Pepper made an exasperated sound and went silent for a few moments. Then he heard her huff a sigh before she tried again.

"Okay, Bruce is your husband. Where did you meet him? I don't recall you talking about any Bruces in the past. I mean, you didn't just marry some stranger, did you?"

"Well . . . . "

"You did! You did just marry some stranger! What did you pick up some random guy off of the street and say, 'Hey, I'm Tony Stark. Would you like to get married?' Are you serious, Tony?!?"

"First, your impression of me, terrible. I do not sound like that at all. Second, of course I didn't just find a random person on the street and ask them to marry me."

"Then what did you do?!? What brilliant selection process did you use to select a complete stranger as your life partner?"

"Gotta say, not a big fan of sarcasm on you. It just doesn't seem right."

"Tony!"

"Okay, fine, I used a mail-order marriage service. Well, internet marriage service, but I suppose that's the modern technology equivalent."

"What, you mean like those stupid movies where men order wives from Russia?"

"Exactly. Except it was a husband, and the service is based in Tajikistan."

"So, this Bruce guy, he's from Tajikistan?"

"Well, he was in Tajikistan, but he's an American."

"What's an American doing become a Tajik mail-order groom?"

"I don't know! He won't tell me!"

"And that doesn't seem suspicious to you?!? The board is going to have a fit! Did you even bother to run a background check on him?"

"Well, no . . But he signed a pre-nup, and he did it without a fuss. I really don't think he's in this for the money . . . Which is actually kind of confusing, because, if he's not in it for the money, what is he in it for?"

"You're an idiot!"

"Well excuse me for being lonely! You only packed up and left while I was down in the lab one day! Didn't even say good-bye! Just left a note saying you had had enough, but you would still work for the company! What did you expect me to do?!!?"

"Well all you ever did was work in the lab! It was like I didn't exist! I'm surprised that you even noticed I was gone! . . . And really?!? I was supposed to _assume_ you were going to marry a random stranger by using a strategy most often used as a gag on sketch comedies because I left?!? You're insane!! You can't just marry some random guy!"

"Yes, I can! And Bruce is not just some random guy!"

"You didn't know who he was last week!"

"So! That was last week! Now he's my husband, so he's no longer some random guy!"

"Tony, you need to get a divorce. You can't stay in some relationship that you started on an impulsive whim when you were lonely. How would that look?!?"

"You can't tell me I need to get a divorce! My life, my marriage, my husband, and Bruce isn't going anywhere! . . . .and I don't care how it looks, though if you're so worried we wouldn't have to go around advertising how I met Bruce. He and I certainly aren't going to say anything about it, so that leaves you. If you keep your big mouth shut it shouldn't be an issue."

"You're seriously thinking of staying married to this guy?!? Why?!? Out of spite? 

I can't think of any other reason. You don't love him. You don't even know him! You keep calling him your husband, but the truth is, if it weren't for some website the two of you wouldn't even be friends right now, much less anything more! 

Why are you being so stubborn about maintaining a sham of a marriage when it could ruin your company and your reputation if the truth ever gets out?!? Really, even now it's not doing you any favors!"

"Who are you to judge?!? You don't know the first thing about our relationship! And, like I said, my husband, my business, my choice!"

"You're insane!"

"Yeah, noted. Now, if you would kindly leave me alone, I have a lot of work to do to appease the ever dissatisfied board . . ."

He gestured for JARVIS to cut the call and then sighed.

"What was that, J?!? I told you I didn't want to talk to her!" Tony accused.

"I am sorry, sir, but she used the override code you gave her," the AI replied evenly.

"I thought I voided that override," he countered.

"You did, sir?" JARVIS replied in the robotic equivalence of mock-innocence.

"Traitor," Tony grumbled.

He got back to work, but he found his mind drifting to Bruce. His argument with Pepper had him thinking about what his true relationship with the other man was. She was right, he didn't love him. He was completely in lust with Bruce's lean body and adorable face framed by unruly curls, but that was nothing more than desire. He enjoyed the few times they had exchanged sarcastic comments. He looked forward to when they shared meals together. Never had he been more comfortable with another person than he had been with Bruce the night before at the fundraiser. They had really clicked as 'partners-in-crime.' They were certainly more than just strangers, but he wasn't sure if their bond could even be said to be friendship. So what were they? He didn't have a good answer for that, but he knew that the thought of Bruce leaving made him want to throw things, so they must be something.


	16. Sandwiches in the lab

"Tony?" Bruce called uncertainly into the lab.

When he received no answer, he almost turned around and left. Maybe Tony didn't want him down in the lab. He hadn't included it in the tour, so maybe it was more of a solitary sanctuary for the billionaire? Bruce could understand that. He had preferred working alone in the lab as well.

"Bruce?" 

Tony's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he realized that the other man was standing in front of him staring at him.

"Did you need something?" Tony prompted when Bruce remained silent.

"Um, no. I, uh, brought you lunch. JARVIS said you were pretty busy and probably wouldn't be stopping for lunch, so I brought you a sandwich," Bruce replied, holding out a plate for the other man.

"Thanks," he said as he took the sandwich. "Where's yours?"

"I didn't want to be a distraction, so I was just going to deliver your sandwich and let you get back to work."

"You wouldn't be a distraction. I could use some company for a while, if you don't mind sitting around the lab while you eat."

If Bruce was honest, he really _did_ want to see the inside of Tony's lab. It had been a really long time since he'd had access to anything more than what he could create from odds and ends, and the idea of a fully equipped, state-of-the-art lab was very tempting. Even if all he was doing was looking at it.

Besides, as much as he was enjoying the chance to catch up on some scientific reading, it would be a nice to leave the study for a while.

"Unless you don't want to," Tony added, since Bruce didn't seem to be making any moves to answer him.

The way he said it struck Bruce. He sounded sad, almost like he was resigned to the fact that no one would ever want to spend time with him. Bruce could related to that, too.

"No, I would love to. Just give me a few minutes to go make myself a sandwich," Bruce answered quickly.

Tony smiled back at him, and he would have sworn that his smile could have rivaled the sun with its radiance. 

Bruce hurried back to the kitchen and cobbled together a sandwich for himself as quickly as he could. It was almost as if he thought Tony might reconsider his offer if he took too long. Then, plate in hand, he returned to the lab.

He walked hesitantly through the door, but Tony gestured him over enthusiastically. He made his way across the room, and settled himself at a table nearby that appeared like Tony wasn't using it. Then, he couldn't help but look around the room, (and be awed by all shiny, new technology, holographic screens, and the sheer amount of space dedicated to scientific pursuits).

"What do you think?" Tony asked with a smirk.

He held out his hands to encompass the space. Then he winked at him, and Bruce realized that some, (or perhaps all), of his awe must have been showing through.

"It's very nice," Bruce said, trying to sound neutral.

"It's my favorite part of the tower. It's Candyland. Well, science Candyland," Tony returned.

Bruce couldn't help but agree. From what he could see, there was everything a scientist could need or want. He couldn't say as much without giving too much away, but he definitely thought it.

Tony returned to his work, and Bruce munched on his sandwich. Silence fell between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it was warm and companionable. They didn't need to speak or even interact. They were both so lonely that just knowing the other was nearby was enough.

Eventually, Bruce could resist temptation no longer and shifted slightly so that he could see what Tony was working on. In front of the billionaire was a string of equations he was using to calculate the material that would be needed for some project or another. Bruce's eyes swept over the equations from thirty-something feet away, (one of the benefits of being far-sighted), trying to be discreet, but Tony seemed to notice his gaze.

"I know I'm not very good company. I just need to get this done. The board has been breathing down my neck about these projects," Tony apologized.

"It's alright. I understand," Bruce responded with a shrug.

"Pepper never did," he admitted, (though he wondered if he should be talking about his ex-girlfriend with his new husband). "She always said it was like I didn't know she existed when I was in the lab. . .but I needed to work, and she never wanted to be anywhere near the lab. It wasn't like I was trying to ignore her . . .anyway, I hope you don't feel like I'm ignoring you."

"No, it's fine. It's actually kinda nice to sit in silence with you, as opposed to your usual probing questions," Bruce joked.

Tony chuckled softly.

"I suppose I deserve that . . .But can I help it if you're fascinating and I want to know all about you?"

"Fascinating? I'm pretty sure you're the first one to say that about me. I'm dull. Believe me. Really, really boring and dull. As in, I used to make people fall asleep when I talked, dull."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Suit yourself."

"No, really. You're funny and snarky. That would be pretty hard to sleep through. Plus, I'm pretty sure it would be almost impossible for a guy that ended up half-way around the world and agreed to marry a stranger to be dull."

"You'd be surprised."

"Somehow I don't think so."

Bruce shook his head and smiled.

"You're so stubborn."

"I thought you said you knew who I was when we met? Isn't that common public knowledge?"

"I suppose so," he agreed with a chuckle.

"Exactly. And since so much about me is public knowledge, it seems entirely unfair that so much about you is a secret. Wouldn't you agree Mr. . . . Oh wait, I don't even know your last name."

"It's Stark, by the way."

"That's cheating! That's your married name! You know very well I was talking about your maiden name . . .laddie name? Young gentleman name? Whatever you call a guy's last name before he marries another guy and changes it!"

"I'm pretty sure there isn't a term for that."

"Well, there should be. This is the twenty-first century. Women aren't the only ones who change their names when they get married. . .and don't change the subject!"

"It was worth a try. . .and I'm still not going to tell you."

"Why? Are you on the FBI's most wanted list or something? Did I marry a serial killer? Because, given my luck, that sounds like something I might do."

Bruce rolled his eyes, (to try to cover how close to the mark Tony was with his "most wanted" comment), and said, "I'm not a serial killer. Does that make you feel better?"

"I don't know . . .if you were a serial killer, that's probably exactly what you would say . . ."

"And what would I say if I wasn't a serial killer?"

"Probably the same thing . . . I guess we're good. Just leave me out of it if you decide to go on a killing spree."

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. He knew Tony was joking, but he had hit a little too close to home. It was partially his fault for not ending that particular line of conversation earlier, but he hadn't foreseen just how uncomfortable it would make him. Now that it had though, he made his excuses, and left the lab.


	17. Was it something I said?

When ten o'clock at night came around, and Tony had not seen or heard from Bruce since lunch, he started to wonder just how deeply he had offended the other man. He could tell Bruce was uncomfortable when he left, but he wasn't quite sure why his jokes had caused so much grief. Sure, they had been slightly inappropriate, but they had certainly joked about things that bordered on inappropriate before. Besides, he couldn't have thought Tony was serious. It was pretty clear that a gentle, (albeit snarky), sweet man like Bruce wasn't a serial killer . . . Was he?

Tony was ashamed to admit it, but given Bruce's reaction, he _did_ check the FBI's most wanted list after he left. Much like he expected, no one on the list matched Bruce's description. 

He considered checking other databases, the CIA watch list, Homeland Security, and a few others, but he mentally chastised himself for the thought. Bruce was not on the FBI's most wanted list, and he wouldn't be on anyone else's. He was a kind, unassuming man, and Tony was wrong to ever have thought him capable of such a thing for even one second. No matter what his reaction to Tony's joke, it was clear the man was not a killer. Furthermore, if he was sensitive about the topic of serial killers it was far more likely that he felt such things shouldn't be joked about, or worse, that he had lost someone he cared about to a serial killer. Tony really hoped not, if he had, then Tony's joke would put him at a level of asshole that not even he, (and he had no illusions that he wasn't an asshole), wanted to reach.

Eager to chase away such thoughts, Tony returned to his work. It was far easier to think about numbers and equations. They were fairly straightforward. Bruce, on the other hand, was one puzzle after another, and Tony was beginning to doubt if he would ever figure him out. 

On a certain level, he wondered if he should keep pressing the other man for information. He always seemed to put him on edge when he asked, and really, how much did it matter? While he was curious, Bruce's past was in the past. If it bothered him that much to talk about it, perhaps it was best to leave it buried. It would probably be far more beneficial for both of them if they focused on the present and the future instead. Like Bruce said, he was Bruce Stark now, and what they did as they moved forward was what really mattered.

Then again, he was married to Bruce. What if he had something in his past that could affect them both? Didn't he deserve to know what he had gotten himself into? Or what if his past came back to haunt him? How could Tony protect him from something he didn't know about?

Bruce was hiding something, and Tony hated secrets. He hated not being in the loop. He also hated that Bruce didn't trust him enough to tell him, (although the knew that it was silly to expect Bruce to trust him, they had only known each other a few days after all, but for some reason his distrust still stung).

Before long, Tony wasn't thinking about the math at all. In fact, he was thinking quite single-mindedly about Bruce, and that was making it near impossible for him to get his work done. He tried to focus harder, but he was unable to give enough of his attention to his work to avoid making mistake after mistake. Frustrated and exhausted, (he hadn't slept for more than a few hours in the last three days), he made his way over to the lab couch. He would take an hour nap, that was all, and then he would try to return to his work with fresh eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot of time tonight; so a short update, but more to come soon.


	18. "Something"

Bruce thought back on the previous day. He probably shouldn't have left so abruptly. Tony hadn't meant anything by what he had said. He was joking. Still, it had been too much. He had needed to leave or risk revealing something he wasn't comfortable revealing, (or worse, losing control).

Even though he knew he had made the right choice, Bruce couldn't shake the feeling that his excuses, and sudden departure when they had previously been enjoying each other's presence, had likely created even more reservations and hesitancies in their already tenuous relationship. Surprisingly, that bothered him.

He wasn't quite sure why it bothered him so much, (after all, their internet-arranged marriage was already pretty awkward, how much damage could he have done?), but the thought refused to leave him alone. It played on repeat in his mind, making sleep impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the confusion on Tony's face, and the brief glint of hurt in his eyes, that had appeared as Bruce rushed out the door. So he tossed and turned through the night, waves of guilt swamping him time and again.

It was ridiculous. Surely he had misread what he had seen. Tony had no reason to be hurt by Bruce's hasty retreat. Bruce should have no call to feel guilty. Why should he spend so much time worrying over a relationship forged by Bruce's desire to avoid capture by General Ross and Tony's apparent desire to have someone accompany him to boring events and warm his bed? 

Their marriage was a sham! It had no foundation, no trust, on which to build anything meaningful or lasting. Bruce still didn't trust Tony enough to tell him his last name, Tony was too skittish to sleep in Bruce's presence, and for all their banter, they both went out of their way to avoid saying or doing anything that would reveal anything of substance about themselves . . . And yet, there was something about their banter.

In those moments, there was an undeniable connection between them. A spark. An ease and comfort that should only have been attainable through years of getting to know one another. A familiarity that shouldn't be there, but just _was_. An understanding so strong that it transcended their words and seeped into the silences between them, making the other man's mere presence soothing, a balm to years of being misunderstood and lonely.

It was silly to think that something so small could be so meaningful, but it was the reason he was still there, wasn't it? The other reasons he had been telling himself thus far for his willingness to stay were no less true, but if he were honest, they wouldn't be enough to keep him there on their own. No, now that he was allowing himself to be truthful, he knew that loneliness was one of the biggest factors that led him to agree to being a mail-order groom in the first place. It was not that avoiding capture, or trying not to make enemies with the man who created the Hulkbusters, played no part in his decision-making process, but if he had not lived a painfully solitary existence for nearly a decade, he would almost assuredly have left already.

He knew that made him desperate, even pathetic. He was allowing himself be used as an escort, a conversation piece for snobby socialites, and a body to fuck; all for those few glowing moments where he felt like he could belong somewhere. Those fleeting instants of connection. For comfortable silences, meaningless banter, and meals eaten companionably with another person instead of alone with one eye constantly keeping watch for the slightest sign that something was off. 

Furthermore, if he was truly honest, he knew Tony was just as lonely as he was. He saw it in the billionaire's eyes when he thought no one was looking. Perhaps that was why he felt so guilty. What they had, it wasn't a lot, but compared to the soul-destroying loneliness they both had known, it was _something_. It wasn't romantic, it wasn't even truly friendship. It was fragile and distrusting. Still, that _something_ was so much better than nothing, and he didn't want to destroy it.

With that in mind, he asked JARVIS to inquire if Tony wanted Bruce to bring down breakfast to the lab. Perhaps that could be a first step to repairing some of the damage. To his surprise, JARVIS relayed Tony's intention to return to the penthouse and join him for the morning meal.

Hoping Tony's willingness to join him was a good sign, Bruce worked quickly to put together a breakfast of eggs, toast and bacon. No sooner had he finished placing the food on the table, then the elevator doors opened. 

Tony's timing was so perfect, that Bruce had to wonder if he had his AI watching to tell him the precise moment to arrive. He didn't dwell on the thought though. Instead he turned his attention to the man in front of him. 

"Good morning," he said in what he hoped was a warm, yet casual, way.

"Good morning," Tony returned; though his eyes barely lifted from the Starkpad he held in front of him.

He sat at the table, his gaze still fixed on the screen as he appeared to be running some sort of calculations.

Silence fell between them, but unlike the comfortable silence between them in the lab the day before, this was far more loaded. It seemed to be filled with things unsaid, and their metaphorical weight seemed to be crushing any comfort that would usual come for the other's company. Feeling responsible for this turn of events, Bruce gently cleared his throat and attempted to make conversation.

"Still working on your projects for the upcoming meeting?" he tried, (he knew he wasn't great at this sort of thing, but he really was trying).

"Yep," Tony answered simply, not even looking up.

"How are they coming?"

"Slowly, unfortunately. I think it's going to be harder to make the deadline than I thought."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Unless you have a deep understanding of physics and advanced mathematics, probably not."

Bruce blinked at Tony's harsh response, unsure if the rude reply was borne of the frustration of the project itself, Bruce's poor attempt at small talk, yesterday's awkward flight from the lab, or a combination thereof. Tony himself seemed to realize what he had just said, and actually raised his face to look directly at Bruce.

"That was rude. I'm just feeling really overwhelmed by work right now," he half-lied.

He was far from sure that he would finish his schematics and calculations before the meeting, and that _was_ causing him stress. However, he was far more frustrated by whatever was going on between him and Bruce. Yesterday's events had made it clear there was _something_ between them, but it had also strained whatever it was; and it drove him crazy that he might somehow screw up this thing between them before he could even give it a name.

"I'm sorry. I'll try not to be a distraction," Bruce apologized.

Tony raise his head again, and stared at the other man. Why was he saying he was sorry when _Tony_ had been the one who was rude?

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You aren't a distraction, and your offer to help was nice. And it's certainly not your fault that I was an asshole."

"You weren't an asshole . . ."

"I was! If anyone should apologize it should be me . . .but I don't really do that sort of thing so . . . Let's just agree that you don't have anything to apologize for and leave it at that."

Bruce smirked at Tony's 'non-apology' apology.

"I don't know about that last part," he said with a mischievous grin. "I'm pretty sure my poor conversation skills were at least partially to blame. Besides, I've been told I apologize a lot. If you're the type that gets annoyed when someone apologizes when they don't need to, I should make you aware that will probably just end in me apologizing for apologizing."

Tony snickered and returned his grin.

"Well, then I'll just have to inform that there is no reason to apologize for apologizing . . . And so help me if you try to apologize for apologizing about apologizing!"

Bruce chuckled, Tony beamed, and just like that things became a lot more comfortable between them. They spent the rest of the meal discussing the relative merits of over or under apologizing until Tony declared that the words "apology" and "apologize" were banned until further notice.

Soon, Bruce was cleaning up the dishes after Tony had returned to the lab, and wondering once again why talking about complete drivel with Tony was so ridiculously appealing. It was then, that he realized that Tony had left his Starkpad on the table. It was still turned on, and displaying his work from earlier.

Bruce found he was unable to resist temptation, (not that he tried that hard), and picked up the tablet to look over Tony's project. What he saw surprised him. Not the ambition or complexity of the project. He had expected that. Rather, he was baffled by the plethora of errors that Tony had made in his calculations. While everyone makes mistakes sometimes, there were at least a dozen errors just in what Bruce could see, ranging from arithmetic errors to at times using the wrong formula entirely for what he was calculating.

Bruce could only assume that this was atypical for the engineering genius, so he concluded that Tony must be distracted, (he had forgotten the tablet after all), but what would cause him that level of preoccupation? Hopefully, Bruce wasn't the cause, (a thought he dismissed quickly, because why would Tony spare him enough thought to get so off track?). It could be the stress of the time limit, or perhaps lack of sleep, (Bruce had noticed that while he had slept in the billionaire's comfortable, large bed the last three nights, Tony had only been in the bed when they had sex and for a short while there after, and on no occasion had he seen him sleep). Whatever the reason, perhaps he could be of help.

Given that the engineer was clearly distracted and running on next to no sleep, if Bruce returned the Starkpad with the errors fixed, maybe Tony would just assumed that he had done it himself. He would probably assume that Bruce didn't have the ability to help, so there shouldn't be too much danger in helping. Besides, it would help Tony finish quicker, and hopefully be a little less stressed.

Bruce set to work, even as he knew that what he was doing could reveal far too much about himself. If Tony wasn't too inattentive to notice the change in the equations, he would know that the only person who could have fixed his errors was Bruce, and that would reveal him to be far smarter than he let on. While the mistakes themselves were not complicated, it would take a genius to be able to make enough sense of Tony's work to see them.

Then again, there may have been a small part of him that wanted to get caught. Deep down, he knew that some of the reason he felt such a camaraderie with Tony was because he knew the other man understood what it was like to be considered "too smart". Tony had doubtlessly been misunderstood for his intelligence, much like Bruce himself had. But while he had the solace of knowing that he had found an intellectual peer, Tony wasn't allowed that comfort. At least not unless he was observant enough to realize that Bruce actually _did_ have 'a deep understanding of physics and advanced mathematics'.


	19. A name

Tony was working his way through one of his other projects, (he had decided to abandon the one that had been stumping him over breakfast for a while, and see if a fresh look later would help), when Bruce knocked at the lab door.

"Let him in, J," Tony called.

Bruce walked into the room, and stopped several feet away from Tony.

"You left this upstairs," he said, holding out the Starkpad in front of him. "I thought you might need it."

"Thanks. I was wondering where I had left that."

Quite frankly, he had been spending a fair amount of the morning looking for things that he had misplaced. His mind was all over the place, (or more accurately, his mind kept wandering to Bruce), and as he worked his things had become as scattered as his thoughts.

Bruce nodded shyly, and backed his way toward the door.

"You're welcome. . . . I guess I should leave you to your work."

Tony was just about to suggest that he could stay, when he realized that Bruce had already left. He sighed and turned his attention down to the Starkpad in his hands, (and, wait, had he let Bruce hand it to him? Huh. Well, he'd have to ponder that later). The screen was lit and displaying the equations that had been giving him so much trouble earlier in the day, but as he looked at them now, he could see none of the problems that he had been having earlier. That was strange. Last he remembered, the equations had been a mess. His answers had clearly been nonsensical, but he hadn't been able to find where he had gone wrong. Now everything made sense, and all of the equations were solved flawlessly. Surely, he would remember if he had finally fixed the problem set that had previously been causing him so much trouble . . .right?

Then again, he had been very distracted. He was losing things left and right, and he could hardly focus on anything for any significant amount of time. Plus, he was awfully tired, and working until he was so exhausted that details got fuzzy, or forgotten entirely, wasn't something that was new for him. Still, he was nearly positive that he had not solved this set of equations. . .but if he didn't do it, then who did? The only other person who had been anywhere near his calculations was . . .

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did Bruce look through my work before he returned the tablet?"

"Yes, sir. He looked through your equations and made some changes before returning the tablet to you."

Bruce! Bruce had fixed his work. . .but to do that he would have to be able to understand it . . .and if he understood it, that would make him a genius. Which gave him an idea . . . 

"J, search for people named 'Bruce' with science PhDs, especially in any branch of physics, that are between thirty-five and forty-five. Cross-reference with their published works, and focus in on those that show genius-level intelligence. If Bruce understood my work well enough to fix it, he's not just of above average intelligence."

"There are hundreds of men named Bruce with PhDs in science in the specified age-range. However, one stands out. Dr. R. Bruce Banner has two PhDs, one in nuclear physics and the other in biochemistry. He also has an MD."

"Banner . . Banner. Anti-electron collisions! His research was unparalleled, but then he just stopped publishing. Everyone thought he died. Turns out he'd accidentally irradiated himself and became some sort of rage monster. Then he fell off the grid, and . . . JARVIS, it all makes sense! It's got to be him! Can you find a photograph to confirm?"

"This was Dr. Banner's ID at Culver Univesity. The photo was taken over ten years ago."

"So he looks a lot younger, but that's definitely Bruce! Can you believe that all this time, I was married to _Bruce Banner_ , and I didn't know it?!?"

"Sir, if you wished to divorce him, I can place a call to your lawyers immediately."

"Divorce him? Why would I divorce him?"

"Sir, did you not say that Dr. Banner became a 'rage monster'? I have done a search, and it does not seem like he is the safest of partners. He is wanted by the army, and on several Homeland Security watch lists."

"You worry too much, J. I didn't program you to be my baby-sitter. 

Besides, why would I divorce one of the most brilliant people on the planet? He's one of the top minds of our generation. He'll be able to keep up. I couldn't have asked for a better companion. Brilliant, funny, handsome, loves science, and can cook? What's not to like!"

"Not to belabor the point, sir, but perhaps the one ton, rage-fueled behemoth that he can become?"

Tony just shrugged and waved off the comment.

"Minor detail. If anything it just adds intrigue."

"If you say so, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoru_hana, you were right on. Are you a mind-reader, did you hack my computer, or are you just really good at this game? ; )


	20. Dr. Banner

Bruce was settled in a chair in the corner of the study, reading his way through another scientific journal, when he heard the door open. He barely had time to react, before Tony whisked into the room. 

Surprised by the other man's sudden presence, Bruce stared at him over the top of the publication. Part of him was worried that Tony would have questions about his choice in reading material, but another part of him dismissed that by countering that Tony wouldn't care about something so trivial.

"Catching up on your reading? That's great, but I'm taking a break for lunch. Want to join me?" Tony asked.

Bruce blinked, his mind adjusting to Tony-speed again, (the other man tended to speak like it was a race).

"Sure."

"Great! I got subs from this great place nearby. They're amazing! Well, I can't confirm the amazingness of the veggie sub, but the New York City Vegetarian Association, which is apparently a real thing, gave it five stars, so I'm guessing it's good. You'll have to tell me what you think," Tony rambled as he held up a bag with sandwiches in it.

He fished into the bag and pulled out one of the wrapped sandwiches to hand it to Bruce.

"Thanks."

Tony settled into one of the chairs next to him, and unwrapped his sandwich. Bruce followed his lead, and did the same with his. He took a bite of the toasted sub, and found himself nodding.

"Well, whoever those people are, they were right. This is really good," Bruce commented when his mouth was no longer full.

"Glad to hear it," Tony said with a grin.

He took another bite of his sandwich and then looked at the pile of reading material at Bruce's feet. 

"Looks like you've been hitting the scientific journals pretty hard. Anything interesting?" Tony asked.

"Oh, not really. I don't really understand even half of it, but I try," Bruce lied, sticking to his earlier plan.

"I doubt that," Tony muttered with a slightly scoff at the end.

"Oh?" Bruce asked lightly.

"I have the feeling you're much smarter than you let on," Tony challenged.

Bruce shuffled uncomfortably.

"No one would bother to read all of that if they didn't understand it. And I saw the way your eyes lit up when we were down in my lab yesterday. Admit it! You speak science!" Tony continued.

"Tony, I . . ." Bruce started, trying to think of what to say to deny the accusation, but finding no words.

"No need to be embarrassed. I think it's great! And incredibly sexy," he said dropping his voice at the end, and giving him a smoldering stare.

Well, that was an unexpected chain of events, he thought, though Bruce wasn't sure why he was so surprised. Tony was a known playboy, and from his short time with him, he had noticed that the billionaire seemed to find quite a few things arousing, (Bruce in his clothes, Bruce in a suit, and now apparently Bruce being smart). 

He barely had time to process the thought, before Tony was in his space. Their lips crashed together, and Tony briefly stole his breath away before he found himself going into autopilot. The other night had proved that he could do this without being a danger to the other man, so he might as well give him what he wanted. Sex was part of their arrangement wasn't it? Part of why he'd been ordered.

Still, he wasn't really into it, so he let his mind wander, and went through the motions, hoping that he looked like he was enjoying it enough to fool Tony. He let himself be led to the bedroom, and then just let what happened next happen.

When they finished, he felt Tony snuggle against his side. That was new. Tony had kept his distance last time, retreating quickly to his own side of the bed. This time, he didn't seem to be able to get close enough, pillowing his head on Bruce's chest, and pressing as much of his body against Bruce as possible.

"You're comfortable," Tony muttered sleepily into Bruce's chest, as he snuggled even closer.

"Thanks?" Bruce whispered back.

"I mean it. I could stay here all day. You make a very good pillow."

"I'll be sure to add that to my résumé."

"You should. Dr. Bruce Banner, genius physicist and amazing pillow."

What?!? Had he heard Tony right? His heart rate picked up as he realized the other man knew who he was. 

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, raising his head to meet Bruce's eye.

"You know who I am?" Bruce asked hoarsely.

"Yeah. I figured it out after you returned the tablet this morning. It's not like just anyone could have fixed my calculations," Tony responded nonchalantly.

"And you're okay with it?" Bruce queried incredulously.

"Why wouldn't I be? You're one of the smartest people on the planet. I fail to see how that's a problem. If anything, it makes you even more amazing. You can actually understand. You speak science. I mean, I would love to share a lab with you, see what you come up with. A mind like yours shouldn't be wasted.

The only thing that bothers me is that you felt like you needed to hide who you are. Why didn't you just tell me?"

"If you know I who I am . . Then you know . . ."

"That you can get big and green and angry?"

"Yes. That doesn't bother you?"

"No. I'm a human night light who has a miniature reactor in his chest. I don't think I'm in any position to judge someone for being a little different."

" _A little_ different?"

"Like I said, Bruce. It really doesn't bother me. 

I'm actually kind of a fan of your rage monster. Seems like a pretty good way to make sure that no one messes with you."

"It's not a joke," Bruce sighed.

"I wasn't trying to be funny," Tony said seriously.

Bruce stared at him. He had no idea what to make of this situation. It was like the world had gone crazy. Well, at least Tony had. How could he not care about the Other Guy? 

He had hoped that maybe Tony would eventually accept him, despite his greener self, but he knew that was likely wishful thinking. Now, if Tony was to be believed, he not only accept who Bruce was, he was thrilled! Furthermore, he almost seemed gleeful about the fact that Bruce could turn into a destructive behemoth. That was not normal!

Was he insane?!? Normal people were not comfortable sitting in bed next to someone who could become a rage monster. Strike that, he thought as Tony moved closer to settle himself back into his former position, normal people _**definitely**_ do not _cuddle_ with a guy who had the potential to become the Hulk!

He looked down at the other man as he snuggled even closer, and quickly fell asleep. Wait, so _now_ he was comfortable enough to fall asleep with him?!? If the soft snores against his chest were anything to go by, Tony had learned who he was, and not only did it not bother him, but apparently he trusted him even _more_ now than before! 

Bruce was at a complete and utter loss to make sense of any of it, so he just wrapped his arms around Tony, and allowed himself to sleep. He was still pretty tired from his sleepless night, and he was probably stuck there until Tony awoke anyway.


	21. Nightmares

Tony's sleep had been haunted by nightmares all too often since Afghanistan. He frequently found himself waking up gasping for air after dreaming about the torture he had endured. Other times, he jerked to awareness and found his hands drifting to the arc reactor, to make sure it was still securely in place in his chest after memories of Obie's betrayal had plagued his sleep. 

Nightmare-less sleep had been so infrequent for him, that he had avoided sleep altogether for awhile. He would stay awake until he passed out from sheer exhaustion. That had only helped so much though. While his nightmares were at bay when he was awake, they were sometimes even more intense after long periods without sleep. 

Then, he had turned to alcohol as coping mechanism. When he drank until he passed out, he was numb enough that he usually avoided nighttime reminders of painful memories. It had worked to an extent, but he was spending too much of his time drunk, (even by his own reckoning, and he had a pretty high tolerance for irresponsible behavior). 

Finally, he had settle on a balance between staying awake, self-medicating with alcohol, and sleeping in snatches, hoping that if he kept sleep short he could avoid nightmares. With that in mind, he was pleasantly surprised when he woke up several hours after his impromptu nap, and found that he felt well-rested. As far as he could recall, no nightmares had interrupted his sleep, and even now that he was awake he felt safe and comfortable in Bruce's arms. He couldn't really explain it, but he trusted the other man completely, (even though he had hidden his identity, but given the number of people looking for him, he supposed he could understand).

He had also really meant what he said about the other man's ability to become a rage monster. While others might worry about Bruce's greener self attacking them, Tony was just relieved that Bruce wasn't as helpless as he seemed. He was small and scrawny, and if Tony were honest that had made him a little nervous. It seemed like it would make him a target. Originally his concern had been out of pride and paranoia more than anything, (he wouldn't want his enemies to see his weak husband as something to be exploited; easy leverage to gain an advantage over Tony), but as they got to know each other better, he had started to genuinely care about the other man. The thought that anyone might hurt him was unbearable. It had been a great relief to learn the other man was nearly invulnerable, especially given some of his powerful enemies.

It felt strange admitting that he trusted someone he barely knew so completely, or that he cared so much about a man he'd known less than a week, but it was true. He felt very connected to Bruce. The physicist/genius/doctor/rage monster was a clear kindred spirit. He could tell that much, despite the short time they had known each other. They had so much in common, and yet in other ways they were complete opposites. That only made them all the better really. They understood each other where it mattered, and they balanced each other out in other aspects. Furthermore, in some quiet part of his heart and mind, he knew that given all of that, it would be incredibly easy to fall in love with the other man, (not that he would allow himself to admit as much; at least not yet). 

Tony shook his head to clear his current train of thought. Too many feelings. Too many things he'd rather not think about. He should shift his focus. Decide if he should get out of bed or stay where he was. Far less likely to involve messy emotions or a life-altering shift in thinking.

He had just decided he was going to get up, when felt Bruce shift. The other man seemed to be trying to shrink in on himself. Bruce's breathing went from soft and even to frantic pants, and Tony heard his heart jump from sleep-slow to a racing, furious pounding beneath his ear. 

It was clear that Bruce was having a nightmare, but Tony was unsure how to respond. Should he wake him? Should he try to soothe him out of the nightmare without waking him? Should he let the nightmare run its course, but stay nearby to comfort him afterward?

Bruce's breath hitched for a few moments, and he tried to curl further in on himself. Lit by the arc reactor, Tony could see the sheer terror on his face. It was too much. He couldn't watch him suffer without trying to intervene.

Tony gently moved out of Bruce's space, and then reached out to gently shake his shoulder. He paired the motion with softly whispered reassurances that he was safe.

At first, it seemed like it wasn't going to work. Bruce was shifting away from Tony's touch, and only seemed to be getting more panicked. Then, he startled awake.

His slightly green-flecked eyes took in the room as he regained his breath. The fear was starting to fade from his face as he took in his surroundings, but there were still shadows of it in his now deep brown eyes.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked in concern.

"Yeah," he replied wearily. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already awake anyway," the billionaire dismissed. "That seemed like quite the nightmare though. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Bruce said certainly with a resolute shake of his head.

Tony nodded. He often felt the same way about his bad dreams.

"Would you like to go down to the lab and do some science? It's probably been a while since you had access to a proper lab. Which is a shame. A most grievous wrong that we should remedy immediately. 

You can work on whatever occurs to that genius mind of yours. No need to be shy. Mi laboratorio es tu laboratorio," Tony said with a grin.

Bruce stared at him, surprised by the offer, but he couldn't deny its appeal. Slowly he found himself nodding.

"That would be nice. You're right. It has been a while," Bruce agreed.

"Great! Let's get dressed and go right now!" Tony enthused.

He sprung out of the bed, completely naked, and quickly got dressed. Bruce took a little more time, but still seemed eager, (though he possibly wanted to be covered just as much as he wanted to be ready for the lab).

Finally ready, the pair made their way to the elevator, and then to the lab. They stopped outside of the door, and Tony paused and stood there for a moment.

"JARVIS?" he said.

"Yes sir," the AI prompted.

"Give Bruce full access to all of the labs," Tony instructed.

"Access granted," JARVIS intoned.

"Well, let's christen it," Tony said, turning toward Bruce. 

Picking up on his meaning, Bruce reached out his thumb and pressed it to the screen next to door. The touchpad turned green, and the doors opened.

"Welcome to the lab!" Tony declared imperiously as they walked through the door. "I know you've already been here, but now it's different. You're not just here as guest, you're here as a scientist. It's your lab too now, and I guess that makes you my lab partner. Huh, never really liked having a lab partner, but I have a feeling that this partnership is going to be awesome!"

Bruce smiled fondly and shook his head at Tony's rambling. Still, he hoped that he was right about things going well with them sharing a lab. He could only imagine how awkward things would get if he was wrong.


	22. Book of ideas

Bruce tried to make sense of the sudden shift in Tony. The billionaire didn't seem to do things by halves. Before he had known Bruce's identity he had tried to make him comfortable, but he seemed to be keeping a safe distance. Spending most of his time in the lab away from Bruce. Never sleeping in his presence. Keeping conversation light and humorous, but also meaningless. Now, he had fallen asleep near Bruce, (or more accurately _on_ him), told Bruce he was okay with who he was, and even offered to listen to Bruce talk about his nightmares. Furthermore, he had given him _full_ access to the lab. No restrictions, no limitations, no trial periods, just immediate, full access to all of his labs the day he learned who Bruce was. It was quite the change, and while Bruce might have expected that Tony might feel a certain level of connection to him over their mutual love of science, he would have never predicted how strongly the other man would react.

It might be incredibly paranoid of him, but Bruce found himself wondering what Tony's angle was, as he leafed through one of his notebooks, (he had written down so many ideas over the last several years, but never had the resources to do anything about them. Now that he did, he didn't know where to start). Surely, no one was that kind and accepting of a monster without the belief that they could benefit somehow. What was in this for Tony? There had to be something.

"What's this? You certainly wrote down quite a bit doctor . . .oh, is that a water purification device?" Tony asked from uncomfortably close as he looked over Bruce's shoulder and pointed at one of the pages.

"Yeah. While I was traveling, I spent a lot of time in places where it was very difficult to find clean drinking water. People would boil unsafe water, but that only did so much, and other water purification methods were too expensive or difficult to obtain. I figured if I could come up with something that would be small and portable, effective, and fairly inexpensive, it could do a lot of good," Bruce explained.

"What about that on the next page? It look like plans for some sort of medical device," Tony stated, gesturing at another sketch in the notebook. "Is this whole notebook filled with designs like these?"

"Well, I didn't exactly have access to much more than what I could carry or create from spare parts for the last several years, so when I had an idea, I wrote it down. I figured maybe some day I would have the time and resources to look into them more thoroughly, and maybe make some of them a reality," Bruce answered. 

Tony reached over and grabbed the notebook from Bruce. The scientist was surprised by the completely unannounced move, but didn't try to stop him. He also didn't say anything as Tony started leafing through the pages of the journal without so much as a question as to Bruce's feelings about the subject.

"Your designs are amazing. Most of them look like they're drafted well enough that we could create a prototype from what you've written here. Your notes are incredibly detailed.

You know, Stark Industries' humanitarian outreach division could make a lot of these a reality. Make a bunch of them; distribute them to people and aid organizations that need them," Tony commented; then he seemed to consider and added, "if you were agreeable to that, of course."

Bruce paused to consider. Wasn't that why he had written all of those things down in the first place? Tony had the resources to help him make his plans a reality. They could work together to fill some of the needs that Bruce had seen while he was on the run. Still, it bothered him that Tony was so willing to snoop without permission, and that asking Bruce his opinion about his schemes for _Bruce's_ designs had seemed like it was an afterthought for the billionaire.

Perhaps this was his angle. Maybe this was why Tony was so excited to learn Bruce's identity. Was that why he was so willing to give Bruce lab access? Did he want Bruce to work for him? Was he hoping to capitalize on Bruce's ideas? It would make sense. While Tony was a genius, and more than capable of doing brilliant things on his own, two genius were better than one. It would mean more ideas, more designs, more work done and in less time.

It made sense, and it was even almost appealing. Bruce had been bored the last few days, and the idea of having work to do was welcomed. Yet it bothered Bruce at the same time. It seemed like proof that Tony just assumed that he had full right to Bruce and everything about him. Mind, body, possessions; everything seemed to be fair game, and asking Bruce his opinions about any of it seemed like a foreign concept to him. 

"I guess," Bruce said reluctantly.

"Great! I think we could do a lot of good here. You certainly put a lot of work into these ideas, and it would be a shame if the world never got to benefit from them," Tony returned with a smile as he handed back the notebook.

"Thanks," Bruce said as he took back his notes.

He needed to focus on the positive. If all went well, water purification devices, portable medical devices, and a half dozen other potentially life-saving devices would be making their way to those who truly needed them. It would mean saved lives, and better living conditions for some of the poorest of the poor. Wasn't that worth whatever discomfort he was feeling? It had to be.


	23. Round 2

Bruce was amazing. He was the most astonishing, fascinating, and beguiling person Tony had ever met. His brain was insanely hot. Tony hadn't been able to resist leafing through his journal, (though in retrospect, maybe he should have asked first), and when he did, he was stunned by the depth and complexity of the ideas and designs it contained. He knew Bruce was a genius, but looking at page after page of brilliant work had really driven the point home.

Then, after they had scanned all of Bruce's designs into the computer, they went on to work on finishing Tony's work. Typically, Tony hated working with other people. They slowed him down, and they usually didn't see things the same way he did. He was pleasantly surprised to find this was not the case with Bruce.

Bruce's mind worked in parallel to Tony's. He sometimes saw things that Tony didn't, but his process always seemed to perfectly compliment the engineer's. They collaborated seamlessly, and before long, all the work was done, (far sooner than Tony had expected).

"Well, that should do it. Except for the actual board meeting part, but that's not for another two days . . ." Tony commented.

Bruce nodded.

"Thanks, by the way, I never would have thought that I could finish with this much time to spare. I typically cut these things pretty tight," he continued.

"It was nothing. It was actually kind of fun to have a chance to work in a lab again. It's been a while," Bruce admitted.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, but it certainly wasn't nothing. You've got to be the best lab partner I've ever had. All of the others just slowed me down, but you managed to help me finish in half the time. That's not nothing," Tony argued.

"Glad I could help. I could see how you would be hard to keep up with."

"Not for someone as brilliant as you."

Bruce blushed, and Tony leered, (hey, could he help it if Bruce was brilliant, and flushing, and thus incredibly sexy?). The stare wasn't lost on Bruce, who started to shift uncomfortably and wring his hands.

"So . . .um . . . .we've been down here a good eight hours. Are you hungry? Then again, it is pretty late, maybe you want to go to bed?" Bruce tried, (hoping to shift Tony's focus).

"Why don't we order something . . .whatever you'd like . . .and while we wait for it, we can 'go to bed' for a little while," Tony replied, his tone becoming sultry toward the end.

"I like Indian food. Maybe some vegetarian korma?" Bruce said, (hoping if he avoided the second half of Tony's statement maybe it would be forgotten).

"Got it. J, put in the order," Tony directed as he took a step closer to Bruce.

"You're not going to order anything?" Bruce asked while he tried his best not to step back away from Tony to put more space between them.

"JARVIS knows what to order. Let's just say I ate a lot of takeout before you came along. I have a list of regular orders for nearly every restaurant that delivers in the area," he answer as he advanced another step. "Now . . .while we wait, what can we do?"

Tony smirked and looked at Bruce suggestively. A new blush sprang to Bruce's cheeks, but he pasted on a smile and met his gaze.

Before long, they were tangled together on the lab couch. Tony savored the feel of Bruce's skin against his. He marveled at how they seemed to fit together perfectly; their similar heights leading to hips, shoulder, faces and feet all perfectly aligning. He kissed him deeply and hungrily, and wondered if maybe he had found his match. Someone who complimented him in mind and body. 

On a certain level, it almost seemed too good to be true. How could he have happened upon someone as brilliant, sexy and funny as Bruce, (especially considering the means he had used to find him)? Still, Bruce's body was solid in his arms, and his breath ghosted past Tony's cheek, all of which pointed to him being very real. He was real, and that thrilled Tony and scared him all at once.

The ideas of having someone who he could share all of his life with, his work life as well as the rest of him, was very appealing. On the other hand, the way he was thinking about Bruce scared him. He'd thought about the possibility of falling in love with the doctor a ridiculous amount of times in the last twenty-four hours, and that was disconcerting. 

He hadn't thought he could feel that way about anyone after Pepper. He figured the best he could hope for was someone he liked who would put up with him. No sparks or fireworks, but steady companionship that would stave off the loneliness. A friend with benefits at best.

Now, he could see the possibility of sparks and fireworks with Bruce. He could see them having something meaningful and deep; far deeper than what he had had with Pepper. It was a strange thought, and it terrified him. What's more, that he was thinking all of this less than a week after he had met Bruce just made it all the more frightening.

"Are you alright?" Bruce asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

"Yeah. Miles away, sorry," Tony answered with a smile.

"Do you want me to go get the food from reception, or do you want to do it?" Bruce asked.

"I'll go," the engineer volunteered, hoping the trip would give him time to clear his head.

The last thing Tony wanted was for Bruce to know what he was thinking. He needed to get a grip, and stop spacing out.


	24. A puzzle

Bruce sat on the lab couch waiting for Tony to return. He wasn't quite sure what to make of his current situation. Working side by side with Tony in the lab had been rewarding. He'd felt useful, and he'd really enjoyed the collaboration. They had hardly needed to speak to know what the other needed. It had almost been like they were communicating telepathically, their minds were so in sync. 

On the other hand, an unfortunate side effect of their work together seemed to be an increase in Tony's libido. Apparently, on the ever-growing list of things that Tony found arousing, Bruce's intelligence, and any display thereof, took the top spot. It would be incredibly inconvenient and uncomfortable if every time they worked together it ended in sex. Especially, since a small part of Bruce was disappointed each time that Tony didn't realize he was uncomfortable and stop, (though it made no sense why he would feel that way, since he was doing his best to hide his discomfort and seem like he was enjoying himself).

Tony strolled back into the lab carrying their food and quickly made his way back to Bruce's side. He plopped himself down onto the couch gracelessly and set the takeout bag on low table in front of them.

"So . . .why Indian? Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan, but I'll eat almost anything, and I wouldn't have guessed it as one of your favorites. . . Although I suppose they do have a lot of great vegetarian dishes," Tony rambled as he passed Bruce his dinner.

"I lived in India for a while. Actually that's where I was before I ended up in Tajikistan," Bruce commented.

Tony nodded an acknowledgement and dug into his own food. Silence fell over them as Tony seemed to contemplate what to say next, but it was still comfortable. The easy companionship of colleagues, and maybe even friends.

They continued to eat in silence until JARVIS' voice broke into the quiet.

"Sir, incoming call from Miss Potts," he announced.

"Put her through," Tony responded.

"Do you want me to . . ." Bruce started, but Tony shook his head vigorously before he could even finish.

"Tony?" a woman's voice questioned from the speakers in the ceiling.

"What's up, Pep?" Tony replied flippantly.

"Are you still working on your projects for the board meeting? Please tell me you're getting close to done. The board asked for a status report, and I didn't know what to tell them. They were less than impressed when you came with incomplete plans last time."

"Hey! Those plans were mostly done!"

"Tony . . . "

"And it wasn't my fault! They gave me three days! Genius takes time! It's not like ground-breaking innovation happens overnight!"

" _Tony_ . . . "

"But do they acknowledge that? No! It's all . . ."

"Tony!"

"What?!?"

"How are the projects coming?"

"They're done."

"Done? Really? You're never ready with this much time to spare."

"Well, this time I am. Turns out Bruce is kinda a genius. He helped, and we were done in no time."

"Bruce?"

"Yeah. Isn't that great? Your project is done with time to spare, which incidentally means you can stop nagging me now, and I have a new lab partner. One who actually _gets it_ and can keep up with me."

"You had your quickie-hitch husband, who we know next to nothing about, working on proprietary projects? What if he leaks information to one of our competitors?!? Why would you let him anywhere near SI information!?! I mean, have you even run a background check on him yet!?! You know nothing about him! You can't trust him with company secrets!"

"Look, Pepper, I know who he is, and I trust him . . . I should probably also tell you that he's sitting next to me, and you're on speaker phone."

"Tony! Take me off speaker phone!"

"Sorry, but no. Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of him. If you don't want him to hear it, I probably don't want to hear it either.

Besides, you should be nicer to him. You might be CEO, but I still own a sixty-five percent share of the company. Sixty-five percent of the company that will become his if anything happens to me."

"What?!!?" both Pepper and Bruce cried at the same time.

Bruce looked at Tony incredulously. When had he decided this?!? A few days ago he had been asking Bruce to sign a prenup before their Vegas wedding, and now he was saying he wanted Bruce to inherit his company?

"I've changed my will, well, more accurately, I'm changing it tomorrow. I just set up the appointment with my lawyer. 

Whether you like it or not, Bruce is my husband. I want to make sure if anything happens to me, that he's cared for. Plus, it'll be good to know that the majority share of the company belongs to somebody with a good head on their shoulders. Most of the board members are idiots. They need a genius in the mix to stop them from making stupid decisions."

"Tony, you can't do that. I wouldn't know the first thing about running a business," Bruce broke in.

"You wouldn't have to. Pepper would still be CEO. You would just own the company, and have the benefits that come with it," Tony replied.

"But what about Pepper? She's done so much for the company. Don't you think it would make more sense to give it to her?" he countered.

"She has, but she'll be more than set with her CEO salary and the other money I plan to leave her. It's you I'm worried about. 

Plus, I meant what I said about the board members. They're imbeciles. They need someone to keep them in check, and I trust you enough to know that you'd do that," Tony answered sincerely.

"Still here, guys!" Pepper interrupted with clear annoyance.

"Right," Tony commented. "So, Pep, do you need anything else, or are you just going to continue to insult my husband? Because I'm really not in the mood for that right not. Actually, make that ever."

"I was calling to remind you that the governor is having his alternative energy luncheon tomorrow."

"That's tomorrow?"

"I thought you might have conveniently forgotten. Tony, this is big deal. The state of New York is looking to increase their investment in green energy, and we need to stay at the top of their list. Stark Tower is proof of just how effective arc reactor technology is as a power source, but we need representation at the event."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious, Tony. Two o'clock tomorrow afternoon at the governor's mansion. Dress nicely, don't get drunk, and remind them why we're the best option."

"Whatever you say, mom."

"You're such a child. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother . . ."

"Don't worry. I'll go to the stupid luncheon, and I'll be on my best behavior. I promise. Now is there anything else?"

"No. That's it. But, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope this Bruce guy knows, that as much as you annoy me, I will still hunt him down if he ever hurts you."

"Okay, that's enough! Bye Pepper!" 

Tony quickly ended the call and turned to face Bruce.

"I'm sorry about that."

"It's alright. She cares about you."

"Yeah, she does. Even if she shows it by nagging me to death, and threatening my husband."

"To be fair, you weren't exactly making things easy for her, and you did forget about the luncheon."

"Hey! You're supposed to be on my side!"

Bruce chuckled as Tony put on an exaggerated pout until he too broke into laughter.

"Well, I guess we better get to bed. Two o'clock thing with the governor and all . . . Won't that be fun," Tony commented wryly. "Well, on the bright side, I'll get to see you in that suit again, and that's always a welcomed sight."

Bruce flushed and tried to stammer a response, but he really didn't have one. Besides, Tony had shifted his focus, and was tugging him out the of lab door and toward the elevator.

Half an hour later, they were curled up in bed. Tony was half on top of him again, and fast asleep. He'd drifted off no more than minutes after they had laid down.

Bruce, on the other hand, was wide awake. His mind was trying to sort through the puzzle that was Tony Stark. The billionaire was continually surprising him. In the course of the last twenty-four hours, he had revealed he knew Bruce's identity, taken a nap on top of him, offered him full access to his lab, called him the best lab partner ever, defended him to his good friend and CEO, and apparently made plans to change his will so that it included Bruce. It was a dizzying amount of developments considering that before that Tony had been hiding in his lab, too uncomfortable to let his guard down around Bruce for more than an hour or so at a time.

How had things changed so quickly? Why was it that Tony seemed to trust him now? How could he trust him enough to leave him his company? Why did it seem to matter to him so much that Bruce would be cared for if anything happened to him? Why was he willing to tell off Pepper, who he clearly cared deeply about despite their bickering, to defend Bruce? And why, despite all of these signs that Tony might actually care about him, did Bruce still feel so uncomfortable and ill-at-ease with the other man?

He sighed slightly as the answer to his last question popped into his mind. Kind gestures aside, he was still someone that Tony had ordered. His duty was still to be an escort and a sex partner. The fact that Tony hadn't consulted him about his interest, or lack their of, in either their sexual activity or the luncheon was proof this was still very true.

Bruce didn't know what else he had expected, but he found himself oddly disappointed. On a certain level, he had hoped that once Tony realized who he was, he would realize that he had been coerced into the marriage, and respond accordingly. Perhaps it was unfair to assume he would make the connection, but he had clearly known that there were people pursuing Bruce, so it wouldn't take a huge leap of logic. Especially not for a genius like Tony.

Then again, maybe he had figured it out, and was just choosing to ignore the fact that Bruce was a less than willing participant in the process. Bruce shook his head to clear the thought. Surely that wasn't true. Tony could be annoying, (frequently on purpose), and a bit of an ass, but he didn't seem like he would do something like that. It would be cruel and reprehensible; tantamount to accepting that Bruce was his slave. Tony didn't seem like that sort of man. No, it seemed far more likely that he was just unaware of the situation. That was what Bruce had to believe.


	25. The Luncheon

Tony looked down into his tumbler of scotch. Some people might claim that two thirty in the afternoon was too early for hard liquor, but those people had clearly never had to attend an event like this. Half an hour into the luncheon, and Tony was fairly sure that banging his head against a wall for twenty to thirty minutes straight would be less painful than making small talk with members of the governor's staff and the representatives of the other alternative energy companies. He had repeated his spiel about the arc reactor and Stark Tower too many times too count. Even worse, each time he gotten blank stares as he tried to explain just _the basics_ of how the energy source worked. 

These people were so dense! No one in the room had any sense at! Well, Bruce did, but he couldn't just isolate himself in a corner with his plus-one, despite how appealing that sounded.

The thought ushered in a whole new set of concerns, and Tony found himself feeling very fidgety. He turned the tumbler back and forth in his hand and watched as ripples traveled across the surface of his drink. 

His mind traveled back to earlier that morning. For the second time in as many days, he had awoken feeling safe and well-rested. He'd slept a full eight hours, something he couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to do with being drunk, and he'd been able to do it because Bruce had been nearby. 

As he'd awoken, he'd thought about how happy he would be to wake up next to Bruce for the rest of his days. The thought had surprised him a little, even scared him a bit, but he knew without a doubt that it was true.

Then, he'd turned to look at his still-sleeping partner, and what he'd seen had gnawed at him, just as it was starting to do now as he stared fixedly into the depths of the amber liquid in his glass. Bruce's face had looked pained and exhausted. It looked like the other man had barely slept in the last few days, and that even though he'd finally managed to fall asleep, that his sleep was far from peaceful. A quick check-in with JARVIS had confirmed Tony's suspicions. Bruce had only fallen asleep less than an hour before Tony awoke, and if his noticeable restlessness was anything to go by, he would probably awake before long, (a hypothesis that was proven correct when Bruce awoke less than half an hour later).

Tony felt very guilty knowing that Bruce was uncomfortable and unable to rest, while he was feeling safe and sleeping through the night. Worse, he couldn't help but wonder if their proximity, the very thing that had benefited Tony so greatly, was to blame for the other man's sleeplessness. He sincerely hoped he was wrong, but he couldn't rule out the possibility.

The thought stung him, just as much now as it had that morning. He was undeniably fond of Bruce, and he would never want to be the reason he was hurting.

Then again, while it was entirely possible that Bruce might not be fond of their sleeping arrangements, there was definitely more at play. The nightmare he had had the day before didn't seem like it was caused by their bed sharing. The way he had stared off into the distance, the haunted look on his face, they all spoke to something remembered. Something scarring and terrifying from Bruce's past that still hadn't loosened its ugly grip. It was a look Tony knew well, one he recognized from his own face when his own demons refused to leave him alone.

Still, that did little to make him feel better. Either way, Bruce was hurting, and that made him ache. There had to be something he could do. Some way he could help.

He downed the rest of his scotch in one gulp, frustrated by his failure to think of any way to help. Surely he should be able to do something, but nothing came to mind.

He cast his eyes about the room as he continued to ponder what he could do, when he realized that Bruce was no longer chatting with the petite brunette plugging wind turbines; he was being approached by a man in a military uniform. Furthermore, as the man got closer the fear in Bruce's eyes was growing. His body remained relaxed, minus a slight tension in his shoulders, but for a brief moment his expression resembled that of a trapped animal, helpless and very afraid.

Tony couldn't just sit and watch this happen from across the room. He rose from his seat and strode purposefully across the room as quickly as he could without seeming to hurry.

He closed in just in time to here the soldier say, "You look familiar. . . .aren't you Dr. . . ."

"Stark," Tony interjected as he fell in by Bruce's side. "He's Dr. Stark. My husband."

He stressed the last two words, making them a challenge, daring the man to bother Bruce now that he knew he was associated with the billionaire. He threw an arm around Bruce's shoulder, (and felt him relax slightly as he did so), to further his point. 

"He looks incredibly familiar though. I know I've seen his face before. What's his bachelor name?" the man continued, addressing Tony now instead of Bruce, but completely ignoring his challenge.

"Thompson. He was Bruce Thompson before. Though I don't know how he could look familiar to you. He's never worked with the army. Bit of a hippie really. We met when he was protesting Stark Industries back when we still made weapons.

I will say, though, you're not the first person to think he was someone else. It happens all the time. He's been mistaken for half a dozen different people. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" Tony lied effortlessly.

"Yes. It happens all the time, but what can you do?" Bruce responded, feeling slightly emboldened by Tony's support.

"He must just have one of those faces. I personally, think he's pretty one of a kind, but I guess I'm biased," Tony said, letting affection seep into his voice and turning to look at Bruce lovingly.

"Of course," the man replied, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry that I bothered you."

The uniformed man turned on his heel and walked away, and Bruce let out a relieved sigh. Tony squeezed his shoulder in reassurance and fished his phone out of his pocket with his other hand. JARVIS would need to make sure that Dr. Bruce Thompson existed before anyone decided to look into him.

"They're finally serving food! At last! The end is in sight! Let's go find our table," Tony whispered to Bruce, exaggerating his mischievous glee to try and take the other man's mind off of what had just happened.

He grabbed Bruce's hand and led him to their chairs. The other man seemed more than happy to allow himself to be led, and unless Tony was imagining it, he seemed to be sticking closer to Tony's side. Not that Tony had any problem with that, (in fact, he was thrilled that it appeared that Bruce felt comfortable with him).

They took a seat, but Tony kept their hands joined under the table. He kept them that way until all the food had been brought to the table, and with a slight squeeze to Bruce's hand he let go.

"So," a man on the opposite side of the table said conversationally, (great, now the small talk began). "Tony, I hear that the gentleman that you've brought with you today is your husband. That must be a fairly recent development."

"Yes. We got married less than a month ago," Tony responded.

"Newlyweds! How wonderful," the woman who was seated next to Bruce cooed. "Where did you go on your honeymoon?"

"Yes, do tell," another woman agreed. "Josh and I have been looking for somewhere to go for our tenth anniversary. I figure if anyone has the inside track on a romantic location, it would have to be you, Mr. Stark."

"Call me Tony, please, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you," Tony said, his voice in full public schmooze mode. "Unfortunately, we haven't gone on our honeymoon yet."

"Why not?" the second woman questioned. 

"My schedule's been so busy, there just hasn't been time," Tony explained. "Thankfully, I married a very understanding man."

"I'll say," the first woman joked, nudging Bruce lightly in the side, (a playful gesture, but one that made him stiffen his back uncomfortably nonetheless). "If my husband would have tried that, we would have put off the wedding until he got his priorities straight.

There's never going to be a perfect time, and it's not like he's the only one with a career. If I value our relationship enough to take the time off of work, he certainly could do the same without excuses."

"Exactly," another woman agreed.

"I really don't mind," Bruce said, with a slight flush on his face from all the attention he was receiving.

"You know, originally I was wondering what you were thinking when I heard you married a man; I can't imagine that went over well with all of your shareholders, but now I think you might have had the right idea," one of the men at the table commented to Tony. "Less nagging." 

Tony and Bruce watched as the table descended into bickering, (the last speaker's wife had something to say about his assessment, and several of the other couples were quick to chime into the argument).

"Enjoying yourself?" Tony whispered to Bruce with a smirk.

"Of course, this is loads of fun," Bruce deadpanned.

"Gotta love the political events," Tony commented under his breath. "Everyone is always so quick to argue."

"You are way too amused by this," Bruce breathed back, trying to sound scolding, but missing it by a mile.

"It's like I told you last time. These events are long and painful, you take amusement where you can get it."

"Luckily for you, you're very easily amused."

"Ouch! Now is that anyway to talk to your husband?!?"

"If half of what they're saying right now is true, then yes, yes it is. It sounds like it might even be a requirement."

"I would hardly take marriage advice from these guys."

"And here I thought I should be taking notes."

Tony chuckled softly, and Bruce gave one of his half-smiles. It was official, Bruce made everything better. Even stupid social events were tolerable when he was around.

Tony returned his attention to his food, and ate measuredly until the meal was finally over. Thankfully, their tablemates had turned their attention to something else after they finished their lively discussion, and left him and Bruce in peace for the rest of the event.

None too soon, he and Bruce finally made their way home. The ride back was filled with a silence that was almost uncomfortable.

"So, 'bachelor name,'" Tony commented, trying to break the silence. 

"What?" Bruce questioned, confused by the random comment.

"The other day I was trying to figure out what you call a man's name before he changes it when he gets married. According to our soldier friend, it's called a 'bachelor name'," Tony explained.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense," Bruce returned distractedly.

Silence fell over the pair again, only this time it was even more awkward. Tony had no idea how to remedy that, so he opted to say nothing. It was an uncharacteristic choice for him, he usually tried to babble his way through awkwardness, but it hadn't worked the first time, and somehow it seemed wrong to try again.

They were in the elevator on their way up to the penthouse, when Bruce finally spoke.

"Thanks for intervening with that soldier. I'm not so fond of the military," he said quietly.

"I know, and not without reason. Don't worry, I've got your back," Tony reassured.

"Are you sure you want to cast your lot with me? It's not the safest move. I have some pretty powerful people who hate me," Bruce cautioned.

The words felt like they had struck him. They were so heart-breakingly defeated, and with them Tony had seen another split-second glance of the distance, haunted look he'd seen the day before. He filed that away for later investigation, but in the moment he tightly wrapped an arm around Bruce's shoulder and turned his head to meet his eye.

"Of course I'm sure. Your enemies are my enemies now, and if they want you, they'll have to get through me," he declared quietly.

Bruce looked at him with surprise on his face, and Tony tried not to be offended by how genuinely shocked he seemed that Tony would choose to support him.

"As far as that soldier knows, you're Dr. Bruce Thompson-Stark, and now that's what the rest of the world will think too," Tony elaborated. "I had JARVIS create a cover identity. Fake birth certificate, fake credentials, everything. You'll be able to hide in plain sight. No one will know who you really are, unless you want them to."

"Or they already know who I am," Bruce countered.

"Well, that too. But if anyone figures out who you are, and tries to do anything about it, like I said earlier, they'll have to get through me and my Iron Man armor," Tony said certainly.

For a split second, Bruce looked like he was going to argue, but then he just nodded. His shoulders slumped as he shrugged off Tony's arm, and he walked out into the penthouse as the elevator doors opened. Tony considered following him, but JARVIS told him that his lawyer was waiting for him down in one of the conference rooms, so he sighed and let the elevator doors close in front of him. 

Why were things so complicated with Bruce? He knew without a doubt that he cared about Bruce. He also knew just as certainly that Bruce had made his life better. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was constantly saying and doing the wrong thing. At the very least, he knew he was missing something important. He just wished he knew what it was.


	26. Guilt and Dr. Who

Bruce sighed and sunk down onto the couch. The soldier at the luncheon had been a far from welcomed surprise. Tony had intervened quickly enough to prevent an incident, but Bruce had mixed feelings about the billionaire's intervention.

_Don't worry, I've got your back._

_Your enemies are my enemies now, and if they want you, they'll have to get through me._

It was strange, because Bruce had been hoping that Tony would be willing to defend him. His whole reason for agreeing to become a mail-order groom was that his spouse would provide him with the protection he needed to stop running and hiding. Tony's declarations proved he was willing to shield Bruce from the army, but Bruce found that far less comforting than he thought it would be.

Instead, he felt guilty and worried. He'd been so disappointed that Tony never considered he was coerced into a relationship, but was he any better? Wasn't he using Tony too? He might have been ordered for a purpose, but he had agreed just as calculatingly. He'd planned to use his spouse as a shield and deterrent for General Ross, and he had foolishly told himself that would somehow be okay. He'd convinced himself it wouldn't be wrong to use someone if they were using him. Especially not if they didn't know it was happening.

He hadn't counted on someone like Tony. Someone who he would connect with, someone who would be willing to be vulnerable with him, and someone who at that moment was signing papers to include Bruce in his will. Worse yet, someone who had declared they would take on anyone who intended him harm with such fire in his eyes, that he had to wonder if he wasn't one of the most despicable people on the planet for trying to use such a man.

It made him want to tell Tony off for being so willing to take on Bruce's troubles. It made him want to scream at Tony that he was a fool for thinking he could take on so many powerful people and come out unscathed. He wanted to scream that it wasn't safe, and run away before any of his demons could go after Tony, because they would. Bruce was sure of that now. The soldier at the luncheon hadn't let Tony's status stop him from poking around, and he was a nobody in the army. Ross wouldn't stop no matter who Bruce was married to, and only wishful thinking had let him think otherwise.

He should run. He should get out of the United States, and hide as far away from the reaches of the US military as he could. It was the safest option, the one least likely to backfire not only on him, but also on Tony.

Still, he'd yet to find a place where Ross hadn't been able to find him, and he knew leaving wouldn't be without its consequences. Tony might not treat him as an equal partner, but it was incredibly clear that the other man cared for him. It was also just as clear that Tony was painfully lonely. Bruce just up and leaving wouldn't be well-received by the billionaire, (he knew, in some little part of his mind, that it would crush Tony; though he didn't know why or how he knew with such certainty).

He buried his face in his hands, and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. This was all such a mess. He would be a fool to think an arranged marriage based on selfish ulterior motives could ever be anything but messy, but it was far worse than anything he had ever imagined.

"Bruce? Are you okay?" Tony asked, pulling Bruce from his thoughts.

He must have been more out of it than he thought, because the other man had managed to kneel in front of him without him noticing. The billionaire was settled on the floor in front of him, and looking up at him with concerned eyes.

"Are you still upset about what happened with the soldier? Because you don't need to worry about that. I promise you it'll all be okay. No one is going to hurt you," he soothed.

Bruce shook his head violently and argued, "You can't promise that. You don't know General Ross like I do. He'll never stop. He'll never leave me alone, and if you try to stop him, he'll just hurt you too!"

He choked on a sob and continued shaking his head even more vigorously. The whole situation was making him feel too out of control, (though not in the 'bring out the Other Guy' sort of way he realized). He couldn't face this right now. It was all too close to the surface. He didn't want to talk about it, but Tony didn't seem like he was going to let it drop.

"Ross? The man's an idiot. Did I ever tell you I bought his favorite bar, blew it up, and then built a restaurant where it used to be?" Tony asked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

"What? Why?" Bruce couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Spite, mainly, but he definitely deserved it," Tony remarked casually with a smirk.

"Why's that?" Bruce inquired, in spite of himself.

"Well, see, he convinced me to build this weapon for him. He told me it was going to be used against some lab experiment gone wrong; a near-indestructible monster," he started; Bruce winced, but he continued. "Thing is, he failed to mention that this ' _monster_ ' was actually _**a person**_. When I learned that the Hulk was really a person, that he was _you_ , I was pretty angry. Blowing up his favorite bar seemed like a pretty mild response compared to what I wanted to do."

Bruce stared at Tony unsure of what to say. There was just too much going through his head. Tony hadn't had the full story when he made the Hulkbusters? He had regretted doing it when he learned about Bruce? He'd been angry enough to blow up a bar? And had he just called the Hulk, 'a person'?

"Look, I get if you're pissed off. I would be too if someone built weapons specifically designed to kill me; actually they have, and I was, but that's beside the point. 

I realize I probably should have said something about the Hulkbusters earlier, but I didn't know what to say . . .and I really am sorry. I wish I never would have made them, and I have for a long time. . .do you think you could ever forgive me?" Tony said earnestly.

"I'm not pissed off," Bruce answered slowly.

"Could have fooled me, with that whole stone-faced thing you have going on," Tony commented.

"Believe me, Tony. You'd know if I was pissed off. I'd be big and green, and you'd be a pancake," Bruce said in a dry tone that was part bitterness, part dark humor.

"I'm not so sure about that," Tony said with a shrewd look in his eye. "But good to know you're not pissed off."

"I'm not," Bruce said again certainly. "And I forgive you . . .but was that an apology I heard?!? Because I thought Tony Stark didn't apologize."

He decided it was best to try to steer the topic away from this conversation, it was far too raw for him to want to dwell on it. Humor seemed like it might just work.

"I'm serious, Bruce. I never would have built the Hulkbusters in the first place if I'd known. I know that doesn't excuse me, but I need you to know that," Tony near-pleaded.

"Noted," Bruce replied seriously. "And I wasn't joking when I said I forgave you."

Tony nodded, his expression thoughtful, and his eyes full of gratitude for Bruce's pardon.

"Do you like science fiction?" Tony asked suddenly.

Bruce was startled by the sudden change of subject, but he welcomed the opportunity to leave the emotional minefield they had been wandering through before. He nodded his head, and Tony grinned.

"I'm betting you haven't seen any episodes of the _Dr. Who_ reboot, and that is unacceptable. There's too much strange, over-the-top, science-fictiony goodness for you to miss out," Tony stated, settling himself on the couch next to Bruce and turning on the TV.

The pair spent the next several hours making their way through the first ten episodes, while eating ridiculous amounts of popcorn. Bruce had to admit, it had been just what he needed. Some silly escapism had done him wonders, but it was almost two in the morning, and Tony had an early flight to Malibu, so they decided it was time for bed.


	27. Obvious truths and painful discoveries

Tony blinked his eyes open in his still dark bedroom. Something wasn't right. He wasn't frightened, he hadn't startled awake like he usually did after a nightmare, but he _knew_ that something wasn't right.

A soft whimper broke the silence, and he turned toward the source of the sound. Bruce. Bruce was asleep next to him, thrashing in the grips of a nightmare. His arms and legs flailed slightly, as if he were fighting against being held down, and he cried out softly. His face was a mask of sheer terror, as he continued calling out incoherently and struggling against invisible enemies. 

"Leave me alone!" he yelled in a mush of sounds that Tony could barely make sense of. "Just leave me alone!"

Without thinking, Tony reached out and wrapped the other man in his arms. He shushed him softly, and carded a hand through his hair as he used the other arm to pull him closer. 

At first, Bruce struggled against him, trying to break away, but Tony only tightened his grip. He pulled Bruce as close as humanly possible, and started rubbing a hand up and down his back.

"You're okay," he whispered softly. "You're safe. You're okay."

He repeated this mantra over and over as he slightly rocked the pair of them, one hand still carding through Bruce's hair and the other traveling the length of his spine. He continued until Bruce relaxed in his arms, and he realized the other man had finally quieted.

He sighed to himself, relieved by Bruce's soft, even breathing and relaxed features. He smoothed back his hair from his face, and planted a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Sweet dreams," he murmured softly, as he shifted Bruce into a more comfortable position in his arms.

Then he paused as he realized what he had just done.

Where had that come from? He had been operating on pure instinct. He'd heard Bruce crying out, and he couldn't _not_ hold him. He _had_ to comfort him, and the rest had just evolved out of that. . .and the kiss? Well, it had just seemed right. A salve to ward off bad dreams, even as Tony's rational mind knew things didn't work that way.

His eyes rested protectively on the man he held against him, and he knew that he had crossed a line. He could no longer claim that he just felt friendship for the other man, because it would be a lie. He couldn't say that he 'could love' Bruce, as if it were some distant possibility that was far from certain. If he was honest, and he allowed himself that in the dark of his, (no _their_ ), bedroom, he was already there. He loved Bruce.

It defied all logic, and it was far too soon after they had met by all measures, but he loved Bruce. It was that simple, and in that moment, it seemed like an obvious truth. The sun rose in the east, gravity was the force of attraction that drew objects together, a hydrogen atom had one proton, and Tony Stark loved Bruce Banner.

Finally admitting what he was feeling to himself was freeing. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his heart and mind, but the feeling didn't last. The weight of denial was quickly replaced with worry about how Bruce would respond. 

Tony knew there was something that wasn't quite right about their relationship. He had hoped it was his avoidance of the Hulkbuster issue, and his denial of his feelings for the other man, but he was fairly sure that wasn't true. There was something else going on, and he didn't know if he should risk making his feelings for the other man known before he figured it out. Besides, declaring your love for someone you met a week ago didn't seem very wise if you didn't know how they felt about the issue. He didn't want to come on too strong.

He sighed. Maybe some distance would help him figure out what to do. He'd be leaving later that morning, and perhaps that was for the best. Maybe some time alone would help put things in perspective. He could only hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony climbed out of bed a few minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Bruce was still asleep, so he reached over and turned the button to the off position before it had the chance to wake him. Then he went about getting ready as quietly as he could.

An hour later, he was packed and ready to go, and the physicist was still slumbering in their bed. He gently leaned over to kiss his forehead, and then made his way silently out of the room. He paused to leave a note on the kitchen table, and then climbed into the elevator.

He greeted Happy down at the car, and before he knew it, he was in the air on his way to Malibu. The flight ahead was going to seem long, so he pondered what he should do to pass the time.

A thought occurred to him, perhaps a bad one, but one that wouldn't leave him alone. He thought back to the fear on Bruce's face when the soldier had approached him and the desperation in his voice as he talked about General Ross, and he found himself hacking into the military database. Surely he could find something there that would reveal what had happened.

Twenty minutes of hacking produced employment records, detention records, (apparently he had been held by the army for six months after his accident), and over a hundred videos with Bruce's name attached to them. It appeared that the video files were a series of experiments, probably something Bruce had done for them before the accident. Maybe they could provide some sort of insight.

He opened the first one, and gasped. Bruce wasn't conducting the experiment, he _was_ the experiment. He was strapped down to a lab table, while a pair of scientist narrated their actions. They were studying Bruce's reaction to pain, and how much pain he could stand before releasing the Hulk, and they were doing it by submitting him to an increasingly sadistic series of tests. They started with a low voltage electrical probe, but by the end, they were using a cattle prod at full power.

Tony wanted to turn the video off. He wanted to look away, and cover his ears so he wouldn't have to listen, but he found that he couldn't. Some stubborn part of him declared that Bruce had had to live this, so he should have to watch it. 

It was that voice that egged him on, and forced him to watch several of the videos, despite how terrifying and disturbing they were. It was that voice that told him that he needed to know. He needed to understand what Bruce had been through.

Four hours later, he was sobbing uncontrollably, and he couldn't take it anymore, (even though there were still dozens of videos he hadn't even opened yet). How had Bruce endured that? How had he faced that type of twisted, sadistic treatment and come out of the other side so intact? He knew Bruce had his demons, but he was still incredibly unbroken given what had happened to him. Tony had only _watched_ what had happened, and he couldn't endure it, but Bruce had _**lived it.**_

On a certain level, Tony felt weak, because needed to turn it off. Bruce had had no choice but to face all of the terrible things they did to him, and he'd had the luxury of walking away; and he used it. Then again, he'd seen more than enough to haunt him; even now that it was over, he wanted to drink until he forgot everything he had seen and heard. It was only the approaching board meeting, (and the knowledge that Pepper would kill him if he showed up to the meeting drunk), that kept him from following through on his desire.

He had a job to do, so he stayed sober, and made his presentation to the board. He fulfilled his obligations, but when boarded the jet to head back to New York, he could hold out no longer. As soon as he was allowed out of his seat, he made his way to the bar, and drank until he got so drunk he could barely sit up. 

His inebriated mind was slower, and he felt more numb. Everything seemed to be dulled a little, but even then, the images he had seen earlier still found a way to haunt him.


	28. Overthinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Child abuse

The bed was empty when Bruce awoke, which wasn't that surprising. Tony's flight had been scheduled to leave at eight that morning, and a quick glance at the clock showed it was almost ten. He was a little surprised that he hadn't awaken when Tony got up, he was usually a light sleeper, but he figured he must have been too tired for the noise to bother him. Besides, he seemed to be growing more comfortable in his new home, and he was starting to let his guard down, (though he wasn't sure that was a good thing).

He yawned, and made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. He put the kettle on the stove, popped some toast in the toaster, and padded over to sit at the table. 

There was a folded piece of paper placed carefully on the tabletop that he picked up curiously.

_Dear Bruce,_

_I'll be in Malibu until late tonight, so you might be asleep before I get back. Feel free to use the lab while I'm gone, or really do whatever you want, you're a big boy._

_Just **don't** start season 2 of_ Dr. Who _without me. The tenth doctor is my favorite, and we **need** to watch all of the David Tennant episodes together. _

_Your hubby,  
Tony_

Bruce smiled, and gently returned the note to its original location. Leave it to Tony to have rules about watching TV, but no rules about the lab. He rolled his eyes fondly, and then got up to make his tea and grab his toast. 

He ate quietly, thinking about the note, the man who wrote it, and their situation. He was of two minds about it. 

On the one hand, he loved spending time with Tony. Working with him was effortless and enjoyable, joking around with him felt natural, and even slogging through tedious social events with him had its appeal. They just clicked, and that made his presence really comfortable. 

On the other hand, Tony made all the major decisions concerning the two of them without even consulting Bruce. They were not equal partners. They had sex when and how Tony wanted. They went where Tony said, did what Tony wanted, and short of the laissez-faire attitude that the billionaire had about what the other man did when he wasn't around, the only time he'd let Bruce choose anything was when they had ordered food after working in the lab.

Yet, he had written Bruce into his will; he intended to leave him his share of Stark Industries. He ran interference for Bruce when the soldier had snooped around at the luncheon, and he claimed he would take on any of Bruce's foes for him. Those didn't seem like the actions of a man who saw him as nothing more than property . . . .or did they?

Maybe they were the means by which Tony was staking a claim. Bruce was his, so no soldier, or anyone else, was going to bother what belonged to him. That could be why he created a false identity for Bruce without so much as consulting him. That would explain his eagerness to take on Bruce's troubles. Being able to defend what was his was a matter of pride. Showing no one else could take what was his from him, showed strength. Furthermore, as generous as including Bruce in his will was, he hadn't asked what Bruce thought about the gesture. He'd just charged ahead. Set everything up and let the information slip while he was talking to Pepper. He had made sure he could provide for what was his, even long after his death, perhaps to demonstrate his virility. It could all be some big display of what a man he was, because he took care of those he considered to be under his charge. (Essentially, those that he owned, though he would never state it as such).

Bruce shook his head. He was overthinking this. He had to be. Still, what had been thought could not be unthought . . .and either it was true, or Bruce's paranoia had caused him to impugn Tony's honor. Neither of which boded well for the pair.

The idea of running, and freeing them both from these confusing circumstances, occurred to him again. Tony was gone until late that night, which would give him plenty of time. He could start making his way back to the other side of the world, where he could fade into the vast crowds of people and try to forget any of this had happened. It would allow him to make his own decisions again, and it would keep Tony from throwing himself into danger for Bruce's sake (for whatever reason). In short, it might be for the best; for both of them. 

Even as the thought occurred to him though, he knew it wasn't truly an option. If he left, Tony would look for him. It was a certainty. The billionaire would track him to the ends of the earth, regardless of which set of motivations inspired him, because he didn't do things by halves. 

If the reason for his actions so far was that he cared about Bruce, he would want to make sure he was safe. He would stop at nothing until he was positive Bruce was alright. Then, Bruce would have to face a very worried Tony, (and his own guilt for making the other man worry), when he was found.

If his actions had been motivated by pride, his vanity wouldn't be able to take being left like that. He'd track Bruce down out of hubris. Furthermore, he probably wouldn't be too happy with Bruce when he found him, and facing a vengeful Tony was not high on Bruce's to-do list.

Bruce sighed. Too much thinking! He needed to get out of his head.

He tried distracting himself by watching the rest of season one of _Dr. Who_ , (the note had only instructed him not to start season two). It helped a little, but it wasn't nearly as enjoyable watching it alone.

Feeling a little more focused, he made his way down to the lab. He worked on a couple of the projects from his notebook, but his progress was painfully slow. The quiet emptiness of the lab kept distracting him, and he often found his mind wandering to how much he wished the engineer was by his side, both to help speed along the work and for companionship.

He spent most of the rest of the day in the lab, and accomplished next to nothing. Frustrated, and wondering how Tony's absence could affect him so strongly after only a few hours when he'd lived alone for the better part of decade, he made his way to bed. At least if he was sleeping he wouldn't have to think about any of it.

His plan worked, at least until he startled to awareness when there was loud a crashing noise in the next room. He sat up, heart racing and every part of him on alert, as he tried to figure out what had caused the noise. Straining his ears, he heard a string of mumbled curses spoken in a slurred, but familiar, voice. Tony.

The door opened, and his drunken husband stumbled into the room. He staggered across the floor and collapsed onto the bed next to Bruce.

"I'm hoooomeee," Tony slurred as planted a sloppy kiss on Bruce's lips.

The kiss tasted like whisky with a touch of vodka, and it was very unwelcomed. Bruce pulled away as quickly as he could, but the billionaire caught him in his arms.

"I missed you. I'm glad you're okay," the drunken man slurred, his eyes serious as he spoke.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Bruce asked in confusion.

Tony looked into the distance, his expression suddenly pained. His eyes unfocused for a moment, but then he shook his head and turned his attention back to Bruce.

"You're right . . . Of course you're okay. Except you haven't been sleeping. We should sleep. Sleep is good," he declared as he dragged them both down onto the bed.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, effectively pinning him down, and snuggled into his side. Then, within a matter of minutes, he was snoring loudly.

Bruce wriggled uncomfortably in Tony's grip, but he appeared to be stuck, at least for the time being. Deciding there was little he could do about it without waking the billionaire, who seemed to desperately need to 'sleep it off,' he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off.

_He made himself as small as he could, and moved back further under the bed. Maybe he wouldn't find him. Maybe he would be safe._

_The door to the bedroom slammed open, and Bruce had to swallow a gasp. His heart pounded so loudly it was all he could hear. Part of him worried that its frantic beating was so loud **he** would hear it. The thought made him shiver in fear, and feel a little sick._

_'Robert,' a drunken voice slurred. 'Are you a coward, boy? A freak, a monster, and a coward. A waste of air! That's what you are! You're not worth the breath in your lungs!_

_Show yourself, freak! Did you really think you wouldn't be punished!?! You have this coming, and you know that!'_

_Bruce wished he could close his eyes and disappear, or that he could wake up in his bed and find it had all been a dream, but he knew that wasn't possible._

_Feet fell heavily across the floor. They came closer and closer until they stopped right next to the bed. Bruce felt his breath hitch, and shut his eyes tightly against the impending danger._

_Then he smelled it. Stale gin and whisky. He opened his eyes, and there was his father's face, filled with rage and staring at him as it peeked under the bed._

_The face disappeared, and rough hands took its place. They grabbed him roughly, and hauled him out from his hiding place as he shouted in protest._

_'No! No, daddy, no!' his young voice called._

_'Shut up!' his father roared in his face._

_He followed up his command with a hard **smack!** across Bruce's face. _

_He flinched, the blow so hard that at first he didn't feel it, he merely heard it. Then the pain came, blinding and stinging all at once. Tears sprung to his eyes, and he began to plead with his father. A string of 'no's and 'please's fell out of his mouth at a rapid clip._

_His father paid no attention to his pleading, he just laid into him with fists and feet. They caused pain wherever they landed, until Bruce felt like he was one big, bloody bruise. He tried to curl in on himself and protect some of his body from the blows, but it was no use. Every time he tried, he was uncurled and beaten all the more savagely._

_He heard crunching as his ribs were broken under the weight of a heavy shoe, and he felt a heaviness in his chest as he struggled to breath. Blackness was closing in on him, and he realized this was it. His father was going to kill him this time._

_The worst part was, he wasn't even scared. He welcomed death, because it meant the pain would stop._

_Certain of his fate, he dared to look up on his murderer. He raised his head, opened his eyes and . . . ._

Bruce jolted awake, chest heaving, and brow covered in sweat. He took in his surrounding as he regained his breath, and wondered about his dream. It had been a long time since he had had nightmares about his father. 

General Ross, the torture he had suffered at the hands of the military, and the destruction caused by his own big, green hands had regularly haunted his sleep; but since the appearance of Hulk, his dreams about his father had been few and far between.

He went to sit up, but was held back by an arm at his waist. Tony still had his arms wrapped around him, albeit with a looser grip than earlier. He turned toward the other man, and was met with the full affect of his whisky breath as he exhaled in Bruce's face.

 _Of course. Whisky breath,_ Bruce thought, as he cursed himself for being so screwed up.

The olfactory sense was often said to be the most linked to memories, and the stench of old whisky had always hung around Brian Banner like a poison cloud. It only made sense that Bruce's mind would think of him when Bruce was laying right next to a man who smelled like a distillery. 

Certain that only more nightmares awaited him if he tried to sleep next to Tony, Bruce pried himself out of the sleeping man's arms. Then he quietly left the room, and settled himself in one of the guest bedrooms. There was no guarantee he would be able to sleep there, but at least he wasn't stuck breathing in the hated scent of liquor anymore.


	29. A pain like daggers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:mentions of child abuse and murder. A variation of canon, but still incredibly violent

A throbbing pain, that felt like it was trying to cleave his head in two, greeted Tony as he awoke the next morning. He scrunched his eyes shut against the too bright light of the sunrise, and asked JARVIS to lower the room-darkening shades. The AI complied, and he slowly opened his eyes.

He looked around the room, and immediately felt uneasy, though it took his sluggish, hungover brain a minute to work out what was wrong. 

Bruce! Bruce had been in bed with him last night, and now the other side of the bed was empty!

In the back of his mind, he realized that it was probably ridiculous to be panicked by Bruce's absence. After all, the other man had probably just awoken earlier than Tony and was already in the kitchen, or lab, or somewhere else going about his day. The rational part of his mind was quick to supply dozens of benign reasons why Bruce might not be in bed, but it was a background noise compared to the frantic shouting of the rest of his mind. 

_Where is he?!? What's happened to him?!? What if he's in danger! What if they find him and they try to . . . ._ Tony's mind raced and filled with snippets of the videos he had seen the day before.

No! No! They couldn't do that! Not to _his_ Bruce! Not if he had anything to say about it! He wouldn't let them hurt him ever again!

But what if they found him? What if Bruce went to the store, or went for a walk, and he never came back? What if Tony wasn't enough to keep him safe? 

The 'what if's swamped his mind, making him feel increasingly panicked and helpless. His heart pounded against the arc reactor hard enough to hurt, and a wave of nausea, (that had very little to do with his hangover), washed over him. It all seemed so hopeless, until that small, rational part of his mind took control, just for a second.

"J, where is Bruce?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper for fear of what he would say.

"Sir, Dr. Banner is in the guest room across the hall."

Tony sighed in relief. Bruce was safe. ( _Of course he is,_ chided the rational part of his brain. _There's no need to panic every time he's not right next to me_ ).

On the tail of that relief, came confusion. Had Bruce slept in another bedroom? Why would he do that?

"Thanks, J. . . .how long has he been there?"

"He relocated to the other bedroom about an hour after you joined him in bed."

"Any idea as to why he left?"

"Dr. Banner was showing signs of distress in his sleep. He awoke startled, and attempted to calm himself, but his vitals did not return to normal. After several minutes, he got out of bed and moved to the bedroom across the hall."

"Was he able to calm down there?"

"Yes sir. Within minutes of relocating, his heart rate and breathing returned to his normal resting levels, and approximately fifteen minutes after that he fell asleep."

Tony grimaced. JARVIS had not said as much directly, but it appeared that Tony had somehow contributed to Bruce's distress. If the physicist had not been able to calm down until he was no longer in Tony's presence, then he had to have done something. He only wished he knew what.

He sighed, feeling defeated. In only a week, Bruce had managed to make Tony feel safer than he had in years. He wanted to do the same for his husband. He wanted Bruce to know he was protected and safe with Tony, but apparently he was failing miserably. The other man would rather be alone across the hall than with him. Maybe his fears that proximity to him caused discomfort for the other man were justified, (though he fervently hoped he was wrong).

"Is he still asleep?"

"Yes sir."

Tony nodded. That was something. If Bruce was finally sleeping, he had no intention of waking him, so he made his way to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, he emerged clean and feeling a tiny bit less hungover, (though not much). He dressed, and left the bedroom in time to find Bruce exiting the room across the hall.

Bruce froze and stared at Tony. He avoided Tony's eye, expression guilty.

"Good morning," Tony said neutrally.

"Morning," Bruce returned, still staring at the floor.

"You slept in the guest room last night?" Tony asked, deciding it was best to just address the topic head-on. 

"Yes," the other man answered simply.

He gave a sheepish half-smile, but still would not make eye contact. Tony felt bad for him, as he watched him study the floor. Bruce must feel like he did something wrong, if he was that determined to keep his gaze downward. Part of him wanted to reassure Bruce that it wasn't a problem, he could sleep where he liked. Another part of him, was curious about what exactly had caused Bruce's relocation.

"Any particular reason why you went to the other room?" 

Tony hoped he hadn't made a mistake by letting his curiosity win out. 

"I was having nightmares, and I didn't want to wake you. You seemed the worse for wear last night, and I thought you could use some undisturbed sleep." 

There was something about the way Bruce answered him. He knew that he wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the whole truth either. There was more, but he didn't think he should push, at least not at that moment.

"Thanks . . . .ready for breakfast?"

"Yeah. How do eggs and toast sound?"

"I wasn't asking you to cook."

"I thought you said that I definitely didn't want you to cook? What's the alternative? Besides, eggs and toast are easy to make, and they're perfect hangover foods." 

"Are you speaking from experience?" Tony asked with a smirk.

Bruce shook his head, his eyes suddenly distant, though only for a moment. 

They continued to the kitchen, and Bruce started making the eggs while Tony put some bread in the toaster.

"Not personal experience, no. It's more of a medical opinion than anything. Toast is usually a safe bet for nausea. The protein in the egg helps stabilize your blood sugar, which tends to drop with too much alcohol consumption, and eggs are another pretty easy to digest food, even when you're nauseated."

Tony considered his words as he sat down at the table. 

"That's right, you don't drink . . .but have you _never_ had a drink? You've seriously never been drunk? Not even in college?"

"I started college at sixteen . . . "

"I started at fourteen. That didn't stop me."

Bruce turned from the stove to look at him a second, a whisper of disapproval crossing his features as he seemed to contemplate if he should comment on that or not. He seemed to decide to ignore it, and turned his attention back to the eggs.

"And no, I've never been drunk. I never really saw the point in drinking, so I just never did."

He put the eggs and toast on two different plates and joined Tony at the table. They started eating in silence, when a thought occurred to Tony.

"So, does it bother you when I do?"

"No," Bruce replied simply, continuing to eat his eggs.

Tony nodded, but filed away the topic for further investigation. While the physicist was far from verbose, he'd learned that one to three word answers typically meant Bruce was avoiding something.

They finished their breakfast in silence, and then parted ways. Bruce went to do his morning yoga, and Tony made his way down to the lab. He knew Bruce would be joining him in about an hour, so he would have to work quickly.

"J," he called as the lab door shut behind him. "Look for anything you can find about Bruce and alcohol, or drunkenness, or intoxication. That sort of thing. There's something he's not saying."

"Yes sir."

The AI went silent for a few minutes, and then displayed a document on the holoscreen closest to Tony.

"Sir, there's record of a DUI for Brian Banner that reports that his son, Robert Bruce Banner, was in the car with him."

JARVIS paused, and then brought up several more scanned copies from the Dayton Police Department.

"There are also several arrest records for Brian Banner for public intoxication."

"So, Bruce's father was an alcoholic asshole," Tony commented.

He could relate. Howard had been drunk and distant most of Tony's life. He hid behind scotch, bourbon, and closed doors. The major difference between him and Bruce was that while Bruce had apparently decided to shun alcohol, Tony had taken up his father's habit. At least when he drank all of Howard's best scotch, the other man had actually acknowledged he was alive for a few minutes, (even if it was only to yell at him).

"I not sure 'alcoholic asshole' covers it, Sir," JARVIS commented, bringing up another police report.

Tony's stomach turned as he read the account. According to the report, Brian Banner had killed his wife, Rebecca Banner, in a drunken rage by repeatedly smashing her head against a concrete walkway. Then he felt like he had been struck in the chest, as he continued to read and the report went on to name eleven-year-old Robert Bruce Banner as the only witness. 

Eleven. Bruce had only been eleven, and he saw his mother die in front of him. At the hand of his own father. Tony felt like he was going to be sick. 

He stared at the screen, unable to move. Even as he heard the lab door open behind him.

"What are you working on?" Bruce called.

Shit! Bruce was early . . .or maybe he had just lost track of time. 

"I don't think I've ever seen you so still, or quiet for that matter, while you're working. Whatever it is, it must really have you stumped," Bruce teased.

He continued to advance on Tony, who finally regained enough control of his body to try to reduce the report up on the screen, but it was too late.

"Oh," Bruce said simply, stopping suddenly behind Tony.

"Look, Bruce, I . . ." Tony started, but he trailed off when he found he had nothing to say.

"You what?" Bruce asked with an edge to his voice.

"I'm sorry?" he tried, hoping to avoid making the situation worse.

Bad choice.

"No you're not!" Bruce shouted. "I seem to recall you saying you don't apologize! You're not sorry, you're just sorry you got caught! This is what you do! You push and prod at boundaries! You dig up things you have no right to know! Just like you did when you dug up who I was!"

"I have every right to know who you are! We're married! I have a right to know who I'm married to!" Tony roared back. 

"And this time?!? Is it also your right as my husband to dig up all the old records you can find about me and my family?!!" he growled.

Tony sighed before he answered, "No. I just was worried, because you were clearly avoiding something when you said my drinking didn't bother you. You lied. And you left the bedroom last night when I was drunk. I didn't think that was just a coincidence. I just wanted to understand."

"So you decided you were justified in looking for information so you could solve me like some sort of equation?!?" Bruce seethed, clenching his fists at his sides. "Drunken, abusive father who beat the shit out of him and his mother. Multiple hospital visits with broken bones, major contusions, lacerations, and other assorted injuries from a series of 'accidents.' Mother murdered in front of him. All just data points. Variables in your equation to solve why I'm so fucked up!"

Bruce was panting as he finished, his entire was body shaking, and his knuckles were bone white. He scrunched his eyes shut, and took several deep, slow, intentional breaths. Tony watched, realizing that Bruce might actually be angry enough at him to hulk out. The thought hadn't occurred to him previously, and honestly he didn't know what he would do if that happened.

After several tense minutes, Bruce seemed to calm down significantly. His body was still tense, but he wasn't shaking, and he had uncurled his fists. He took another deep breath, and opened his eyes.

Tony wished he hadn't, because when Bruce opened his eyes, the rage in them had died and an intense hurt had taken its place. A pain so sharp, that it stabbed him right in the heart. It killed all the words that wanted to make their way to his lips; so he was unable to tell Bruce that he didn't think he was a fuck up, or that he really was sorry, or that if anyone was a fuck up, it was him, because he'd managed to hurt Bruce yet again when that was the last thing he wanted to do. It paralyzed him, until it didn't matter anymore if he could get the words out, because Bruce had turned and left. Left him alone to bleed out in his guilt.


	30. Storms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Recalled violence and abuse

Bruce's mind was racing. Sadness, pain, anger, hurt and betrayal all swirled around in his head. Memories of that night came in flashes. Things he had never forgotten, could never forget, but that had been tucked away in the back of his mind for so many years.

_'Come back here! I said 'come back'! You ungrateful whore!' a harsh voice growled._

_A sharp scream rang out, followed by a sickening thud._

Bruce shook his head to try to banish the memories. He increased his pace, as if to run away from them, as he walked out of Stark Tower.

_'Mom! No! Mommy!'_

_She didn't answer. She just laid too still against the sidewalk._

A sob escaped from Bruce as he continued to walk. He felt too much like that little boy who watched in horror as his mother was taken from him. The memories were too real, too vivid, and he couldn't prevent the tears that started to stream down his face. He couldn't make them stop . . . Tony had no right! No right to go digging like that. No right to bring back to the surface something he had kept so carefully hidden in the corners of his mind. Always there, but always buried, until Tony had to go and pry.

_Hands held him back as he tried to run over to the still form of his mother. He struggled against them._

_'Mom!'_

_'Easy, son,' a strange voice, (a police officer?), said._

_He didn't listen. He just tried to shake off the hands on his shoulders. He needed to get to his mom. Needed to have her wrap him up in her arms and tell him that he's okay, they're okay, and that everything would be fine. That's what she'd always done before. Whenever things were bad, she would hold him in her arms the first chance she got; cradling him tightly against her chest and rocking him gently as she let him know everything was okay._

_Nothing was ever really okay, but he could believe it might be in those moments where he could get lost in his mother's warm embrace, reassured by her soft voice and soothing heartbeat . . .but this time. . .this time it was even worse. He couldn't even pretend things were going to be better for those precious moments he was held closely. . .one look at the crimson puddle on the sidewalk, and he knew he would never have those moments again._

_'No! Mom! No! It's not fair . . . ' he cried; his voice trailing off at the end._

_**Of course it's not fair. When has anything ever been fair?!?** he mentally berated himself._

_'No, it's not. I'm so sorry, son,' commented the police officer sadly._

_Bruce hardly registered his words, but soon he was being gently tugged toward the police car. At first he fought, not wanting to be taken from her, but he didn't have very much strength left after all his sobbing, so before long he gave in and let himself be led without a fight._

Bruce half-collapsed next to The Lake in Central Park, overwhelmed by his memories. Tears pounded against the ground like heavy raindrops as he continued to fall apart. His shoulders shook, and he curled in tightly on himself.

Why did Tony have to pry? Why couldn't he mind his own business? 

_I just was worried . . . . I just wanted to understand . . . ._

Did Tony think that justified what he did? That he could do whatever he wanted if he claimed he was worried?

Bruce growled in frustration, and continued to weep. It was too much. Too much pain, and frustration, and anger . . . .and betrayal. 

It didn't make sense. He and Tony had hardly anything to bond them together. A dysfunctional, sham of a marriage, a couple great days in the lab working together, but nothing more. Why did he feel so betrayed? Surely he should have known Tony was the type to dig. Hadn't he taken it upon himself to discover Bruce's identity from whatever bits and pieces of information he had? Why should this be any different? Why should he be surprised that Tony kept searching? And why did he feel so much more hurt this time?

Well, given what Tony had found this time, it only made sense that he would be more hurt. This time he had stumbled upon something far more personal and painful than Bruce's name. Still, Bruce was surprised to find that wasn't the main reason he felt so betrayed. It certainly would have made sense, but as he reflected, he discovered that the real reason behind his feelings was that he felt he and Tony had bonded over the last few days. Ever since Tony had learned his name he had been more open and affectionate with Bruce. He had been caring, and offered to protect him . . .but what about when Tony himself was the one causing him pain? 

Then again, it wasn't surprising. He knew that Tony still took single-handed control of every part of their relationship. That had not changed. He made all the decisions, called all the shots. Bruce was never consulted; never given a voice. Why should it be any different with this? Why wouldn't he decide what information from Bruce's past he had a right to? Why wouldn't he decide which secrets Bruce could and couldn't keep? Why wouldn't he do all of that without ever consulting Bruce? That was what their relationship was, wasn't it?

Angry, confused, and hurt, he let himself break down. He let himself cry until there were no more tears, just heaving shudders and whimpers. 

Shivering and aching, he realized that his face was still wet even though he'd long since spent his tears. In fact, his whole body was wet and cold. Why hadn't he noticed sooner?

He looked skyward, and for the first time since leaving the Tower, he noticed the heavy ,black clouds overhead. He felt the rain pounding down on him, its fury only lessened slightly by the branches overhead, but Bruce couldn't bring himself to care. He looked back down at the ground in front of him. He should probably seek shelter, go somewhere, but he refused to move. Besides, the weather only seemed appropriate given what he was feeling.

The wind picked up, and a crack of thunder sounded, but he ignored it. A storm could hardly hurt him; besides it just meant he was more likely to be left alone. At least that's what he thought, until he heard footsteps behind him.

He turned suddenly, his senses on alert, his body instantly ready to run or fight despite having cried himself into near-exhaustion. His eyes quickly swept the space, and found Tony standing behind him, shifting his weight between his feet and looking hesitantly at the patch of ground directly in front of Bruce.

He waited for the other man to speak, but he said nothing. He just moved more restlessly, his eyes looking pained and lost.

"What are you doing here?" Bruce finally asked.

He winced a little at how raw his voice sounded, and so did Tony.

"I was worried," Tony whispered, looking away to avoid eye contact. "I wanted to make sure you were okay . . . . I was going to give you your space, because you seemed angry, but after you'd been gone over half an hour . . . And it started to storm . . . I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt or . . . . .anything."

Tony looked directly at him for the first time, and then sighed and continued, "Well, more hurt. I know I hurt you. I . . . I didn't mean to, but I know I did. 

I wasn't thinking. I saw an unsolved problem, and I tried to solve it without stopping to think how it would effect you. I'm sorry. I really am. Believe me when I say that the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you."

Bruce tried to process this information. He wanted to believe Tony was being sincere, his apology seemed genuine, but it was hard not to second-guess it. Why would Tony suddenly care about how his actions affected Bruce? He hadn't seemed concerned about what Bruce thought or felt before. What had changed? Was this asset management? Was he only doing this because Bruce had been visibly upset?

"Bruce, please say something," Tony urged.

"You violated my privacy. That . . .what you found . . .that was personal," Bruce accused softly.

"I know. I'm sorry," he apologized again.

They just stared at each other for a few moments longer, until Bruce broke eye contact as another dry sob wracked his body. Tony's face looked so sincere. He seemed so earnest about his apology, but it did nothing to stop the stab of betrayal that Bruce felt every time he looked at him.

Tony's eyes raked over Bruce's huddled form a few times, and then he suddenly knelt in front of Bruce, closing the distance between them and moving to the ground in one graceless motion that resembled a stumble. Then, just as quickly, he took off his jacket and threw it over Bruce's shoulders, apparently trying prevent him from getting any wetter, (and to warm him up based on the way his hands moved gently but firmly up and down his upper arms after he put the jacket in place). The action caught Bruce slightly off-guard, but he was too overcome by his other emotions to show any signs of his surprise.

"Please, just come home," the billionaire pleaded, sliding one hand down to reach out for Bruce's hand. 

He pulled his hand away, shifted out of Tony's grip, and just shook his head. He was unsure what to say, and far from certain he was ready to return to the Tower.

"Please, Bruce. It's storming, and you're soaked."

As if to prove his point, the wind suddenly shook the branches of the tree above them more violently, and several bolts of lightning brightened the sky. Tony lifted his head and froze, looking around them like a scared rabbit as a near-deafening rumble of thunder shook the ground around them. He clambered to his feet, clearly getting ready to leave, and offered a hand to Bruce.

Bruce continued to study the ground, pointedly ignoring the offered hand. Let it rain, let thunder and lightning fill the sky, that he could handle. Going back with Tony though, even just looking at him, was too much right now. He'd much rather face the storm, or even several of them, than do that.

Unfortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands. Tony, who had waited several moments to see if Bruce would take his hand, stooped down and picked the other man up. His scrawny form was very light, ( _too light_ , thought Tony), so getting the uncooperative man to the waiting car wasn't difficult.

 _Great. Now he's carrying me like I'm a child,_ Bruce thought bitterly as he was bridal-carried away from The Lake. 

If he'd had the energy, Bruce would have fought back. He would have freed himself from Tony's arms and gotten angry, maybe even yelled and screamed at the other man. As it was, he was too emotionally and physically exhausted to do anything more than get very annoyed and prevent himself from curling into the man who cradled him against his chest, ( _he was so warm, and gentle; holding him as if he were something precious. . .but no! He hadn't asked! No matter how gentle he was, it didn't excuse him for hauling someone off against their will!_ )


	31. He loves me; he loves me not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Brief, vague discussion of sexual encounters of dubious consent

"I made you some tea," Tony stated as he carefully placed a steaming mug in front of his husband.

Bruce stared ahead blankly, seemingly oblivious to Tony's words or his offering. It was worrying. He had been almost non-responsive since Tony had slid him into the car at the park.

"It's Darjeeling . . .your favorite . . . I think. It's the one I've seen you drink most often," he continued, kneeling on the floor in front of Bruce's position on the couch, trying to meet his eye, and hoping to get a response.

Silence.

"I'm not sure I made it right. I don't have a lot of experience making tea, but I followed the directions on the box. . . . Oh, and I didn't put any milk or sugar in it. I hope that's okay."

Bruce still said nothing.

"Come on, Bruce. Help me out here. I really am trying. I know I screwed up, but I said I was sorry, and I don't know what else to do. . . . Do you want to talk about what happened? Do you want to yell at me? . . . Just tell me what you want . . . And I'll try to make it happen. What can I do to make this better?"

Bruce pulled the blanket, that Tony had thrown over his shoulders when they arrived in the penthouse, tighter around his body. He shifted his gaze, his eyes skimming past Tony, and then turning their focus to the floor. Still he didn't say a word.

"There has to be something I can do. Do you want to let the Hulk out? Get some aggression out. Roar in my face? Throw me across the room maybe? I would deserve it," Tony tried desperately.

"'Get some aggression out?!?' Are you insane?!? The Other Guy is not a joke!" Bruce spluttered.

"I wasn't joking," Tony stated seriously, meeting his eyes in a show of sincerity.

"You are insane! Yes, I'm mad at you, but I'm not going to risk your life and the lives of countless New Yorkers just because you don't give a damn about my thoughts or feelings."

"What?!? What makes you think that!"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the way you looked into my past without a single thought about me or how I would feel about it . . . "

"I screwed up! I said I was sorry . . . ."

"Or the way you carried me out of the park against my will when I had clearly refused to go with you . . . ."

"You were soaked and shivering! I didn't want you to get hypothermia!"

"Or how you thought you had a right to my designs the second you saw them. You snatched my notebook right out of my hands, made grand plans for _my_ work, and then asked me for my consent as an afterthought!"

 _Shit. I did do that,_ Tony thought as he clamped his mouth shut.

"Did it ever occur to you to ask me what _I thought_?!? Did it even cross your mind that what _you_ want might not be what _**I**_ want?!?"

"Bruce, I . . . "

"And the galas and luncheons. Did you ever _once_ _**ask**_ me if I wanted to go?!? 

I understand that you probably only looked for someone in the first place because you were lonely, and you didn't want to have to do that sort of stuff alone, but you're sending me mixed signals here, Tony. 

You treat me like an equal when we work together in the lab, but when it comes to everything else you never even consult me. You act like you hired me to fulfill a role, like I'm your subordinate, and going to galas and keeping you company is the job I signed on for. 

So which is it, Tony?!? Are we equals, or am I your employee? Am I your hired husband, or are we partners? Because, honestly, I can't tell anymore!"

Tony's stomach did a flip-flop. Was that how Bruce really felt? Was that how he had been treating him?

He watched Bruce's chest heave as he tried to calm himself down, his face hurt and confused, and he realize that Bruce was right. He had taken him for granted, and hadn't treated him as an equal, like he deserved. He needed to do better.

"You're right," Tony whispered as he nodded numbly. 

Bruce looked shocked, (his anger had gotten the better of him and sent him on a rant. He hadn't meant to say any of that, and he had been internally cursing himself for his outburst. He had been sure that Tony would decide he wasn't worth the trouble after everything he had accused him of doing, and was preparing to backtrack. He had certainly never expected him to agree with him).

"Bruce, I'm not good at this. I never meant for you to feel that way, and I'm sorry. I'm not used to asking other people for their opinions, but you're right, I should have asked. 

I might have originally wanted you to come here to do the things you said. Go to galas, keep me from being lonely, that sort of thing, but that was before I knew you. Before I realized how brilliant, and funny, and amazing you are. Honestly, I have no idea how I got so lucky.

I _do_ want you to be an equal partner. You've become so much more than a hired husband to me. I love you, Bruce, and I don't want to hurt you. I can see now that I need to be better . . . and for you, I _will_ be better."

Tony swallowed nervously as he realized that in his fervor to let Bruce know that he wanted to make things right, he had let his secret slip.

"What?!? You love me?" Bruce asked incredulously.

"I realize you might not feel the same way . . . " Tony started, in an attempt to do damage control.

"How would I even know?" Bruce stated sadly. "I was forced into this. It was either this, or going back with the army. It's not like I had a choice."

Tony swallowed hard as the implications of what Bruce was saying started to sink in.

"You essentially _own_ me. How can I know if I love you when I'm nothing more than a product? Your _property_. 

You say you want to change . . . and I want to believe you, but you have to understand how this feels to me. You never have given me a choice, so why would I ever feel like more than that? Property bought and sold to be arm candy, a companion . . .a bed warmer."

The room spun, and Tony thought he was going to be sick. He slammed shut his eyes and took a deep breath to try to ride out his nausea, tightening his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.

"A bed warmer? You mean . . . You didn't . . . Bruce, why didn't you say anything?" he asked in a pained whispered.

"I couldn't risk you sending me away. The man who ran the marriage company knew I was running from the army. If you would have complained about me, I have no doubt he would have sent them after me. Maybe I could have escaped before they found me, but I couldn't risk it. 

Besides, I was so tired of running. It seemed that no matter where I went they found me. I thought maybe if I was with you they would leave me alone," Bruce answered honestly, refusing to meet Tony's eyes as he spoke as emotionlessly as he could manage.

"So you whored yourself out to avoid being tortured?!?"

"Tony . . ."

"You're right, I can't put this on you. You didn't have a choice . . .but I did. I did, and I didn't pay attention. I should have noticed . . . I shouldn't have made you do anything you didn't want to . . . I just can't believe I ra-. . . . no wonder you hate me."

"I don't hate you, Tony," Bruce tried to reassure, but Tony had already fled from the room.


	32. Stewing

_**CLANG!** _

Another wrench joined the growing pile of objects that Tony had thrown against the wall. 

How could he have been so stupid! How could he not see that Bruce wouldn't have voluntarily become a mail-ordered groom! He had known something was wrong from the start. Bruce was not your typical mail-order groom. Why hadn't Tony connected the dots when he realized who he was? 

Of course he was fleeing the military! There was no other reasonable explanation. Threatened with imprisonment and torture, a return to the hell all too graphical displayed in the videos Tony had found, it only stood to reason that Bruce reacted as he did. Tony would do far worse than marry a stranger to avoid such a fate. No wonder he had allowed Tony to . . . 

_**CRASH!** _

Tony's coffee mug shattered and exploded against the wall. He watched the broken pieces fall to the floor in satisfaction, but the feeling was short-lived. He could rage all he wanted, it wouldn't fix his broken heart. That much was painfully clear as another wave of guilt and self-hatred overtook him, and he dropped his face into his hands and wept bitterly.

This was all such a mess! He had finally found someone who he wanted to spend his life with, someone who could be his soulmate, if he believed in such things, and he had ruined it. He took advantage of the man he loved, and treated him like a slave. He might have done it unknowingly, but he hadn't given Bruce a choice in even the most basic things. At the very least it was highly inconsiderate, at the worst it was intentionally dehumanizing and cruel. (But he hadn't done it intentionally had he? He didn't know . . .did he? Had he suspected and ignored the truth? Had he _knowingly_ done unspeakable things?)

Intentional or not, his actions were despicable. No wonder Bruce was so angry. No wonder he could never trust him; could never love him. They had no future, no matter what he wanted, and it was his fault.

Bruce would leave him, and he would be alone again. It was only a matter of time. Only this time it would be worse, because now he'd know what he was missing after he'd had a glimpse of what life could be like with someone who he could share every part of his life with. 

Even worse, when Bruce left, he would be in danger. General Ross might find him, and go back to running sadistic experiments on him. Even if he didn't, Bruce would go back to living his life on the run. Always looking over his shoulder. Alone, afraid and half-starved.

Tony shook his head violently against those thoughts, as if clearing them from his mind could protect Bruce from that fate. If only it were that easy.

Then again, Bruce had said he was tired of running, and he had stayed with Tony so far. Even when he had seen their relationship as some sort of twisted quid pro quo where he exchanged sexual favors and companionship for safety and stability, (something Tony was putting a stop to immediately). Maybe he would stay. Tony certainly hoped so. 

If he remained at the Tower, Bruce would at least have a home, food, clean water, and protection from the army, (General Ross would only ever take Bruce back into custody over his dead body). Despite however awkward things would get between them, (especially since Bruce had clearly never meant to say any of what he had said), it would mean Bruce was safe, and that was worth it. Now he just had to wait and hope that Bruce decided not to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"I love you, Bruce . . . . I can see now that I need to be better . . . And for you, I **will** be better."_

He had looked so sincere when he said those words. He had meant it, and Bruce was still in shock. How could Tony love him? He was a monster, and even if he wasn't, he had been more or less using him as a shield against the army since the moment they met. That wasn't the basis of a good relationship, much less the foundation for something like love.

Besides, they hadn't known each other that long. Surely it was too early for such feelings . . .and yet he had seemed so sure of himself.

_"Bruce is my husband. I want to make that if anything happens to me, that he's cared for."_

_"Don't worry, I've got your back. . . Your enemies are my enemies now, and if they want you, they'll have to get through me."_

_Arms wrapped around him in the night and a soft voice repeated "You're okay. You're safe." while he was rocked back to sleep._

_"I just was worried . . . I just wanted to understand."_

_"I just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt or . . . . .anything."_

 

Could he have really meant all of that at face-value? Did he truly worry about him that much? Was he really that desperate to see that he was safe? No one had ever cared about him like that before. Maybe he really did love him . . .

Bruce sighed. What was he going to do? Whether Tony loved him or not, the other man thought Bruce hated him . . .all because he couldn't keep his mouth shut in his emotionally overwrought state.

He might not have ever allowed himself to get too attached to Tony because he _did_ still feel owned, but Tony didn't know that. It wasn't his fault that Bruce was coerced into marrying him. It hadn't been Tony's doing. He certainly hadn't needed to dump all that guilt on him. Especially when it wasn't truly Tony's to bear. Not that that had appeared to have stopped him from taking the full weight of it on his shoulders before he disappeared from the room.

_Good going, Banner._

Somehow he had to get through to him. He had to let him know that he didn't hold him responsible, and he certainly didn't hate him. And if that didn't work, well, then maybe he would just have to leave. He would definitely have brought it on himself if he did.


	33. The one where they FINALLY talk

Tony and Bruce nearly collided outside of the lab door.

"I need to talk to you," they said at the same time.

"You first," Tony offered.

Bruce looked nervous, but cleared his throat and spoke.

"Tony, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that . . . ."

"But it was true, wasn't it? What do have to apologize for if all you did was tell the truth?"

Bruce sighed heavily, averting his eyes for a few moments.

"Yes, it was true that the man who owns the matchmaking company threatened to turn me in to the army if I didn't agree to become a mail-order groom; and yes I was afraid of what would happen if I didn't do what you wanted, so I went along with things I might not have otherwise, but no, I should not have blamed you. I made a choice, and I'm the one responsible for that choice. You didn't force anything on me, and it wasn't fair of me to imply that you did."

"Some choice you had Bruce. After what the army did to you? The endless sadistic tests on pain tolerance, and rate of regeneration of damaged tissue, and the upper limits your vitals could reach before a transformation, and whatever else they could use as a paltry excuse to torture you; no one in their right mind would willing return to that. Your hand was forced."

Bruce looked surprised when Tony started enumerating several of the experiments that the army had run on him during his time in captivity. He hadn't told the other man about what they had done to him. At least not in any detail.

"How did you know about the tests? Did you . . . "

"I hacked the army databases. I realize I probably should have asked you, but it's so hard to get any information out of you, and I knew the army must have done something horrible to you for you to react the way you did when we ran into that soldier. 

Let's just say my curiosity got the better of me, and I took things into my own hands."

Tony looked at the floor, and Bruce closed his eyes and took another deep breath.

"Of course you did," Bruce muttered.

"You're mad. Look, I . . . . "

"I'm not mad. . . .well, not very mad. I just starting to . . . .Nevermind, back to my original point. I don't know if you want me to stay or not . . . . ."

"Of course I want you to stay!" Tony interrupted.

He knew it was rude, but he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't stand the thought of Bruce thinking he was anything less than welcomed.

"Okay. I want to stay, too. I just think some things needs to change if this is going to work."

"I agree. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I need to be better at communicating, for one. I can't expect you to read my mind, so I need to be able to tell you what I'm thinking. I had started to resent you for doing things that you didn't know bothered me, and that's not fair. I don't want that. 

Two, I would really appreciate it if you didn't go digging in my past anymore. There's a lot of things that I'd rather forget, and I'd like them to stay private. At least for now. I'm just not ready to talk about it."

Tony nodded. How could he deny him that? From what he had seen of Bruce's past, it was awful. He could understand his reluctance to dredge up anymore of those memories.

"That sounds reasonable."

Awkward silence fell between them while Tony internally mourned the horrors Bruce had faced, and Bruce seemed to gather his courage. Eventually, Bruce cleared his throat and continued their conversation.

"What about you, Tony? What do you need to make this work for you?"

"I need you to be honest with me, Bruce. I don't want to worry about accidentally hurting you. I don't want to hurt you, and I want you to feel safe."

"I'm going to try my best. But in the interest of honesty, I'm not used to people being interested in what I think. It's going to take some getting used to," Bruce admitted.

More uncomfortable silences filled the space around them. There didn't seem to be any good way to end the conversation. 

"So . . . .what do you want to do now?" Tony tried awkwardly, attempting to change the subject to anything else.

"Dinner?"

"We'll order in?"

"Sounds good to me."

Tony knew, as they debated between pizza, Chinese and Thai, that their problems were far from fixed. Things were going to be awkward for a while, but Bruce was staying. Bruce would be safe, and he would have a second chance to set things right between them. They could be friends, and maybe with some time, they could even be something more.


	34. Dinner with a side of awkwardness

Dinner arrived. One vegetarian pizza, one meat lover's, and a side of uncomfortable silence. 

Bruce didn't know what to make of the new awkwardness between them. Tony opened his mouth to speak at least thirteen times, and then reconsidered each attempt before he even made a sound. He seemed so unsure of himself, and it was painful to watch.

Bruce knew he was responsible for the change. His revelations about his unwilling entry into their agreement had Tony second-guessing everything, and it almost made him regret ever mentioning it. While remaining silent would have meant there was no chance for something real to develop between them, and confined Bruce to a play-acting sham, telling the truth might have killed the . . .friendship? . . . .camaraderie? . . .the _something_ . . . that had started to form between them through the cracks of the half-truths and misunderstandings.

There had been times before in their relationship where Bruce had felt used and owned, but there had also been moments where he had felt like he and Tony had known each other forever. There had been times when things were easy, and light. Now, even as they sat on the couch eating pizza and watching _Doctor Who_ , the tension between them created an uneasiness that wouldn't leave. 

Only a couple days ago, they had found comfort and escape in the very same actions. How could it be that even something as simple as watching television and eating take out was ruined now? Had he ruined everything? Would they ever get past the awkwardness?

Maybe someone just needed to take the first step? Maybe if he started conversation, things would start to flow again? It was worth a try.

"You were right," Bruce remarked out of nowhere.

Tony turned and a gave him a strange look.

"About what?"

"The tenth doctor. Played by David . . . . What's his name?"

"David Tennant."

"Yeah. Not that the other guy wasn't good, but David Tennant really adds something to the role. I can see why he's your favorite."

Tony nodded in acknowledgment, and then silence fell over them again. Just as tense as it had been before.

_Great going, Banner. This is what you have to look forward to now. Aren't you glad you opened your mouth? Now your "husband" won't even make small talk with you about camp sci-fi. What were you thinking?!? He admitted that he had charged forward without asking you your opinion, even though he should have. He said he was willing to change._

_For goodness sake, he told you that he loved you! Why couldn't you just accept that!_

But even as Bruce felt guilty for the new strain between them, he knew Tony's declaration was the exact reason he had told the other man everything. He had not meant to say anything, but even when he let slip how he felt about not being consulted, it seemed like he had gotten lucky. Tony had acknowledged his feelings, and promised to take them into consideration. It seemed like too much to hope for. He was stunned, and grateful. For a moment it looked like things might be better between them than he had ever expected. Still a sham, still not the whole truth, but at least a more comfortable, considerate sham of a marriage. 

Then Tony had said that he loved him, and he just had to tell him the truth about everything. He knew that he hadn't been himself; he had tried to be who he thought Tony wanted him to be, so it was impossible for Tony to love him. He didn't really know him. He was in love with the facade that Bruce had been wearing. And he couldn't just let that go . . . Why couldn't he just let that go? He had been willing to indulge Tony in so many things to make their arrangement work, why had he drawn the line there?

"You've got that look on your face. The one you get when . . . ." Tony paused and considered his words. "When something's bothering you. Are you okay?"

"That look"? He had "a look"? And Tony had noticed?

"Bruce?"

Right. Tony had asked him a question. He wanted to know if he was okay.

He was about to say he was fine, when he remembered the other man's request.

_I need you to be honest with me, Bruce._

Should he tell him about his worry? How honest did he want him to be? Surely he didn't want Bruce to be completely blunt about everything . . .did he?

Bruce sighed and replied, "I'm worried that I ruined us."

"What?"

"I'm not sure what we had between us before . . . But I'm pretty sure I damaged whatever it was. . .and if . . .if we're just going to be skirting around each other. If there's no way to fix this . . ."

"Whoa! Bruce, slow down. We're okay."

"Really, Tony? You're so unsure of what to do or say that you spent an hour opening and shutting your mouth without saying a single word. You can barely look at me."

"Bruce, I . . . "

"And I'm not blaming you. I did this. I know I did . . .but if I make you feel that uncomfortable, then maybe we need to be really honest with ourselves about if this is something that will get better with time . . .or if it would be better for me to leave. . . I just . . . I don't want to be the one to make you miserable."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_. . .better for me to leave . . . don't want to be the one to make you miserable._

Tony felt his heart start to race as the words echoed through his mind. 

No! NO! Bruce couldn't leave. He couldn't let him go out and face his enemies all alone just because _Tony_ was a little uncomfortable. . . . Okay, maybe a lot uncomfortable. He had never felt more unsure of himself in his life. 

He was second-guessing everything, because he had hurt him. He had hurt _Bruce_ , the man he loved more than anyone he had ever known. Bruce, who he just wanted to cherish. Bruce, who he just wanted to protect, and would gladly defend with his dying breath. Yet despite those intentions, he was the one who had hurt him. So could anyone blame him for being a little hesitant? For wanting to make sure he was doing the right thing before he acted?

Apparently Bruce could, because he was considering leaving.

He had to say something. He had to stop him. He had to . . . .

"No!"

 _Really articulate Tony,_ he chided himself internally.

"What?"

"No, you're not making me miserable . . .no, this is not your fault. No, please don't leave. Bruce, I can't stand the thought of you out there alone. Running from Ross, never knowing if you're safe . . . Please, please stay.

I'll admit that things are sort of awkward now, but things will get better. They will. I promise.

We both just need to adjust. I just . . . It was a shock. Learning that you didn't have a choice. That you were forced.

I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it happened, and I'm sorry I didn't notice. I wish we could have met under better circumstances . . .but it doesn't change how I feel about you.

I know it might be hard for you to believe, given some of what happened, and I know I have a long way to go to prove it, but I love you . . .and . . ."

"I wish you wouldn't say that."

Tony's heart broke a little at the stricken look on Bruce's face as he made his plea. Was being loved by him really that terrible?

"I realize it's probably a shock . . ."

"No! Well, yes, but no, that's not why. . . You can't love me. You don't know me. I was trying to impress you . . . I wasn't being myself. And believe me . . .if I was, you wouldn't feel that way."

"Did you steal someone else's notebook?"

"What?!?"

"The notebook filled with ideas. Brilliant ideas. Designed to help other people. To provide for those most in need. . .was that your notebook?"

"Well . . . Yes."

"And those were your ideas . . .your designs?"

"Yes."

"The work we did together in the lab . . .were you somehow faking that to impress me."

"No."

"The snarky jokes and sarcastic comments. Were those meant to impress me? Don't get me wrong, if they were, it worked; but I somehow doubt that was your intent. You seem far too careful to take that risk.

My guess is they just slipped out. Am I wrong?"

"No . . ."

"Bruce, I know you, and I love you. 

I love your brilliant mind. I actually have since before I met you. I've had a serious crush on your brain since I read your paper on anti-electron collisions. Then I met you, and your brain is like, the sexiest thing ever.

I love your snarky humor. I love that you care about others. I love how strong you are . . .and you are strong, even though you think you're not, because no one can come from what you did, and survive the things you have, without being one of the strongest bastards on the planet.

I love _you_ , the real you. Not the agreeable, meal-cooking . . .bed-warming . . . persona you put on.

Don't get me wrong, I love your cooking, it's some of the best food I've ever eaten . . .and I liked being physically close with you . . .though I NEVER want to do that again if you aren't a willing participant . . .but I didn't love you for those things. If you never cooked another meal . . .or we never have sex again . . . it wouldn't change how I feel about you. You'd still be you. The stubborn, brilliant, caring, haunted, strong genius scientist/rage monster of my dreams."

Bruce stared at him, his expression uncomprehending.

"Tony, I . . . I . . . ."

"It's a lot to take in. I know. . . I just thought you should know. You seemed to be under the impression that you're somehow undesirable, and that's just not true. . .to be honest, I've never wanted anyone more. . .however I can have you. Friends, co-workers . . . . . Hell, if you're not comfortable with being anything more than roommates, I'll take it. I'll never mention any of that again, if it makes you uncomfortable, and I'll just be happy knowing you're safe here. Far, far away from the reach of the army."

"I don't know what to say."

"Say that you'll stay."

"I'll stay."

"Good, now that that's settled, what do you say we watch another episode?"


	35. The weight of nightmares and tension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of violence and torture

_Electricity crackled and screams filled the air._

_He kept his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see the cave or his captors. Maybe if he just kept his eyes shut he could pretend he wasn't there._

_**Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzap!** _

_The sound was followed by another scream, that he belatedly realized, didn't come from him._

_In fact, other than his racing heart and fear-accelerated breathing, he felt fine._

_What was happening?_

_Confused, Tony opened his eyes and found himself in a dim, low-ceilinged corridor._

_He breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn't a cave. This wasn't Afghanistan._

_His relief was short-lived when another scream broke out in the silence. The sound was unmistakeable. He might not be in Afghanistan, but down that hall, someone was facing the very same fate he had in that cave._

_He started walking toward the sound, vaguely wondering if he shouldn't be walking the other way. Walking away from the danger seemed like a much safer plan. Besides, he didn't have the Iron Man suit with him. He was barefoot and wearing pajamas, (wait, what?), so it was unlikely he would be able to help whoever it was. Especially if they had more than one captor._

_Still, he felt himself being drawn toward the horrible sounds. He followed them down the dark corridor, around an even darker corner, and to a steel door with blue light flashing underneath it from inside the room._

_His hand reached for the doorknob, but froze in midair as the loudest, most anguished cry yet ripped through the air._

_He could still leave. He could turn the other way, and pretend none of this had happened._

_He started to turn away, feeling guilty, but trying to justify his actions (he didn't know this person. For all he knew they were a terrorist, or a murderer . . . Or . . . ), when another scream and a few harsh sobs reached his ears. He cringed at the sheer amount of pain he could hear in that unknown voice._

_No one deserved this. No matter what they had done. Besides, there was something . . . Something familiar . . . But why?_

_Steeling his courage, he turned the door knob and whipped open the door._

_"Bruce!"_

_He staggered to his knees as he took in the sight of the man he loved strapped down to a lab table. Beaten, bloodied, and being shocked with a cattle prod turned up to full voltage by four scientists in pristine, white biohazard suits._

_They were talking amongst themselves as they continued their experiment, but their voices were just noise to Tony. All he could see was Bruce. All he could hear was the involuntary screams and sobs they pulled from him._

_He walked forward, reaching out toward Bruce, unsure of what to do. No one seemed to realize he was there. Maybe he could use that to his advantage . . . Maybe he could . . ._

_" . . .Don't do that! That could kill him!" protested one of the scientists, her voice now perfectly clear._

_"Some loss," grumbled another one sarcastically._

_Rage filled Tony's chest at the man's words, but the rage wasn't enough to quell his panic._

_What were they going to do? How could they kill Bruce? Wasn't that supposed to be next to impossible?_

_He tried to advance quicker, but it seemed like Bruce was getting further away._

_"Bruce!" he cried desperately, but his voice was lost in the din of the raised, arguing voices of the scientists._

_He reached out again, nearly touching Bruce, but froze as the sound of a flatlining monitor suddenly filled the room, all the other noise suddenly gone._

_"No!"_

_The scientists disappeared into thin air, and he was left alone; standing directly in front of the man he had fought so hard to get to. Now all he need to do was reach out a hand and he could touch him, but it was all wrong. He was too still, and his eyes were empty. He wasn't Bruce anymore, he was a shell . . ._

_"NO!"_

_He reached out his hand and shook Bruce's shoulder, but he remained unmoving._

_"NO! No! . . .no . . ."_

_He shook him harder and harder, but nothing happened. His desperation turning to disbelief, turning to horror, as his hand stilled and his mantra of "no"s faded._

_A sob broke loose from his throat, and he collapsed against Bruce and wept; the still, silent chest beneath him mocking him with its lack of breath and heartbeat._

_This was wrong. It was so wrong . . . ._

"Bruce!" Tony cried as he awoke.

His damp eyes took in the shadows of his bedroom at the Tower, and he forcefully let out the breath that was caught in his chest.

 _Just a dream. It was just a dream,_ he told himself as tears streaked down his cheeks.

There was no reason to worry. Bruce decided to stay. He was safe, and probably asleep, in his room across the hall.

Still, it didn't hurt to make sure . . .

"J, is Bruce still in his room?"

"Yes Sir. He's currently asleep."

"Good. Um, thanks, J."

"You appear to be in distress, should I wake him?"

"What? No. Let him sleep. I'm fine."

"You're currently . . . "

"I'm fine!"

He wasn't, but he wasn't going to wake Bruce. Nor would he ask JARVIS to play the security footage from Bruce's room, even though it might, ( _would_ ), calm his nerves, because that would be a violation of Bruce's privacy and trust. The other man had made the need for boundaries abundantly clear.

He flopped onto his side in the bed, attempting to find a comfortable position, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes from his nightmare.

So much for sleep. . . . 

Frustrated, he clambered out of bed and made his way down to the workshop. He needed something to quiet his mind, and given Bruce's reaction to his drunkenness, alcohol was definitely out. Tinkering it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good morning. Got an early start today, I see," Bruce commented as Tony walked into the penthouse from the elevator.

It was half after six, and Bruce was making oatmeal. He'd been planning to only make enough for one, since he figured Tony would still be asleep, but he decided to ask JARVIS, just in case.

He'd been surprised when he was told that Tony was already down in the workshop. The two of them had had a late night the day before, (watching _Doctor Who_ and trying to avoid the issue of sleeping arrangements as long as possible), so when they'd retired to bed, (in the decided separate bedrooms), at two in the morning, he was sure Tony was going to have a late morning.

"Well, you know, you can't decide when inspiration strikes," Tony answered flatly.

Bruce's eyes swept over his drawn, tired face; lingering for a few seconds on the dark bags under his eyes.

"Couldn't sleep?" Bruce countered gently.

"No," Tony admitted.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. Besides, there's nothing you can do about it."

"There's a special blend of herbal tea in a Tupperware container on the bottom shelf of that cupboard. It's loose leaf, since I had to combine the herbs myself, but it sometimes helps. It's a recipe I learned from a village healer in Southeast Asia."

"No offense, I'm sure it uses thousands of years of wisdom about the medicinal properties of plants or whatever, but soggy grass water just isn't my thing."

"It was just a suggestion," Bruce replied, holding his hands up with his palms facing out in surrender.

"And I appreciate it. I just don't think it's for me."

"Okay," Bruce agreed.

He waited a beat and then added, "Breakfast? I made oatmeal."

"Sounds good."

The pair took their spots at the table, and ate their breakfast in silence. More silence. There had been far too much of it in Bruce's opinion. Last night they had cleared the air a bit, but it didn't remove all of the awkwardness. It had helped to made the silences between them less loaded, but it hadn't done anything to decrease their frequency.

Breakfast finished, they made their way down to the lab, where Bruce expected more of the same maddening silence. However, he was wrong. The difference between their interactions in the penthouse, and the way they behaved in the lab was like night and day. Conversation flowed easily, even if it rarely deviated from the work. There was no hesitancy, no second-guessing, and nothing forced about their words. There was just the two of them, and the problems they needed to solve. Honestly, it was a nice reprieve from the tension that had ruled over them since Tony's snooping and Bruce's unexpected arrival in the lab.

The feeling apparently couldn't last. Evening found them ascending to the penthouse again, and as the elevator doors opened on their shared apartment, Bruce could almost physically feel the weight of the tension between them being placed back on his shoulders.

 _It's only temporary,_ he told himself. _Only until we figure out our new arrangement._

". . . .that is if you want to. You obviously don't have to . . .maybe I shouldn't have asked," Tony's nervous ramblings broke into his thoughts.

He pressed his hands to his temples and slowly shook his head to clear it.

"I'm sorry, Tony, what was that? I think I spaced out for a minute."

Tony looked at him with concern for a few seconds, but seemed to decide to repeat himself.

"I was saying, that Pepper sent me an email asking me to attend some fundraising gala that this senatorial candidate is having this Friday. She said he's making green energy the center of his platform, and it would be beneficial to us both if I were seen supporting him. . . .so I was wondering if you wanted to come with me? The "generous donation" that Pepper already made in my name entitles me to a plus one, if you're interested, that is."

"Okay."

"Okay? You know you don't have to come."

"I know, but they're really not that bad. Well, at least not with a buddy. I couldn't send you into that without a buddy. That would be cruel."

Bruce smiled to let Tony know he was joking, but Tony frowned.

"You really don't need to go on my account. I've been to countless galas, and fundraisers, and whatever alone. I'm a big boy. I can handle it."

A matching frown spread across Bruce's face.

"I know you can, but be honest, you don't want to go alone, and I really don't mind. Besides, if you suddenly showed up without me, after being seen with me the last few times, it would raise a lot of questions.

Truly, I don't mind."

"Okay," Tony acquiesced with the ghost of a smile flitting across his face for a split second.

Then just as quickly as the smile came, it was gone, and silence reigned again, as Bruce contemplated his new-found loathing of the quiet he had once craved.


	36. Roommate?  Friend?  Husband? . . . More?

Bruce watched Tony from across the room. The billionaire was easily working the crowd, charming everyone he met. He moved seamlessly from one conversation to the next, sure to get in his talking points, but doing it so effortlessly they seemed like a natural progression of the topic at hand. 

This was Tony in his element, and Bruce was slightly awed. He was also a little disappointed that the first time he'd seen Tony so relaxed in nearly a week, it was from across the room. The ease he exuded was in sharp contrast to the tension and restlessness he had shown around Bruce.

Bruce sighed. He had told himself he was a fool to hope the evening would smooth things between the two of them. 

Earlier that evening, as he put on his suit, he had admonished himself not to get his hopes up with each button he fastened. 

_Things can't be fixed this easily,_ as he pushed the first shirt button through its hole.

 _These things take time,_ as the second button slid into place.

_Besides, you really hurt him._

_It may never be the same._

_Some stupid fundraiser is not a cure-all._

_It won't change what happened._

_Or that he loves you . . ._ One shirt cuff fastened.

 _. . . and you don't love him._ The other cuff secured.

He looked into the mirror to put on his tie, avoiding looking into his own face. Afraid of the guilt he knew he would see in his eyes, because that was the true problem, wasn't it? He didn't know how to act around Tony, because he knew they weren't on equal ground. As hard as it was to believe, Tony loved him . . . and he . . . well, he didn't know what he felt, but he was pretty sure he didn't love the billionaire. He liked being around him, he loved working with him, and he didn't enjoy the awkwardness between them of late; but he would be inclined to describe his feelings toward the other man as more friendly than anything else. 

Still, he countered to himself as he threw on his suit jacket, even when he had been afraid to tell Tony his name, a charity gala had helped them get past their defenses and enjoy each other's company. Maybe it wasn't too much to hope that they could do the same tonight.

It had even looked like he might be right at first. When he emerged from his room, he was greeted by Tony's typical enthusiastic compliments on his appearance, a welcome bit of normalcy in the awkwardness of the last few days . . . but then something had gone wrong. Maybe Bruce had done something to offend Tony? Or maybe it was just too hard for the other man to continue to fake that everything was okay? 

Whatever the case, they hadn't said so much as two words to each other since they arrived at the fundraiser. It didn't seem like much good was going to come of this after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony kept his focus on his task. Talk to as many influential people about arc reactor technology as possible. Convince them that it was truly the future of green energy, and that they should expand its use in the state of New York and the country at large.

He forced himself to think about the next person to corner, the best way to guide the conversation to his pitch, and the best way to disengage himself and meet his next target without causing awkwardness. To think on that, and nothing else. Because, if he let his mind wander, he would think about how stupid he had been earlier that evening.

Unbidden, the memory returned.

Bruce looked good in a suit. He always had. So maybe Tony had been a bit enthusiastic when Bruce emerged from his bedroom, his suit highlighting all of the lean lines of his incredibly attractive frame . . . And maybe he had temporarily stopped thinking and let out a wolf whistle.

Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, he had to go and open his mouth, didn't he? And he couldn't just say something nice and leave it at that, no. He had to use the smarmiest, most lascivious voice possible to tell Bruce that he looked good, because he was just that big of an idiot. The type of idiot that unthinkingly made advances on a man who had been very clear about his lack of desire for anything sexual to happen between them. 

You moron, Stark!

Unsurprisingly, Bruce was mortified. He flushed deep crimson, and started to stutter out a thank you and say that Tony looked very nice as well, but he couldn't listen to the other man's attempt to be pleasant in the face of his blatant disregard for Bruce's wishes. He couldn't even look at him, so turned his gaze to the floor to avoid seeing the hurt and disappointment that were sure to be in the other man's eyes.

"Shall we?" he tried, hoping to shift focus away from his horrible blunder.

"Let's go," Bruce agreed easily.

He reached out his hand for Bruce's, but then realized that the touching may be unwanted. Especially after the clearly unwanted pass he had made at him. 

His hand froze outstretched in the air, neither dropping back to his side nor closing around Bruce's as the other man reached for it. 

Great! Now he was manipulating Bruce into physical contact again, he thought despairingly. 

Bruce shot him a questioning look, that he was sure had a hint of hurt in it, so he quickly dropped the other man's hand as if it had burned him. 

He needed to be more careful. He needed to make sure he controlled himself around Bruce, or the other man would never trust him. And if he didn't trust him, then he would leave . . .and if Bruce left, well that was the subject of his nightmares, (which had become a nightly occurrence).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I see Tony Stark is present and accounted for. Making the rounds, as always. Who invited him?" a voice commented sarcastically.

"Apparently Dave thinks he can help his campaign," another voice replied.

"That hypocrite, help him? Help him to lose, more likely," the first voice scoffed.

Bruce had been gathering his courage to join Tony on the other side of the room, but he froze as he heard the unfriendly voice behind him. 

He knew he shouldn't, but he drifted slightly closer and continued to eavesdrop.

"Well, it certainly wasn't my decision," agreed the second. "I don't care what he says about being reformed. Once the Merchant of Death, always the Merchant of Death. You can't fix that kind of body count by shifting your focus to green energy."

"If there were any justice in this world, he would have been blown up by one of his own bombs," the first said venomously.

"You know, he was attacked by his own weapons," Bruce interjected, as he walked up to the men.

It was probably a bad idea to get involved, but the men's words had caused waves of anger to course through him. Even worse, as he had tried to walk away, that anger had been intensified with tremors of Hulk's rage. He knew he had to do something, or risk losing control. Apparently, the Other Guy wasn't willing to let this go.

"And yet, somehow he survived while the others with him were killed. Does that seem right to you?

Thousands, probably even tens of thousands, dead at his hands, and _he's_ spared?!?" the first seethed as he glared at Bruce.

"And that's his burden, to live with everyday. That's what he's trying to atone for by never making another weapon again, and by shifting his focus to helping others, even as he knows he can never make up for it. That he can never make it right.

That change of focus, and change of heart, that you seem to doubt, is what makes him a better man than either of you. Men who stand here self-righteously passing judgment on others, and wishing them death. Quick to see the fault in others, but never acknowledging the hypocrisy of their own actions," Bruce countered.

"Who asked you?!! And what makes this any of your business?!!" returned the first man angrily.

"You're right. I never introduced myself. I'm Bruce Stark . . . "

The second man paled.

" . . .so this became my business when I heard you say you wished my husband was dead."

"We're so sorry. We had no idea . . . . ." the second started, hands up in a placating gesture as he back away into the crowd and then scurried away.

"I don't care who you are. It doesn't make what I said any less true," the first defended as he walked away.

Bruce stood rooted to his spot, taking deep breathes to calm himself down, and wondering why he felt such a strong urge to pound that man into the floor. Or throw him out a window. Or whip him around like a rag doll . . Or . . . CALM DOWN BANNER!

The other man was unpleasant and offensive, to be sure, but Bruce didn't normally have this much trouble controlling himself when faced with cowards who hid behind hurtful words. The man posed no true threat, but their brief confrontation had Bruce's heart pounding almost dangerously fast, without any sign of slowing down.

"BRUCE! Are you alright?" Tony asked urgently, his voice filled with worry, as he placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Fine," Bruce sighed.

"Are you sure?" Tony persisted in a hushed tone. "You've been standing here growling for the last three minutes, and you didn't answer me until the third time I asked you if you were okay. . . . did something happen?"

He dropped his voice even lower and moved to speak directly into Bruce's ear.

"Did someone recognize you? Did they threaten you?"

"No. Nothing like that. I'm fine. Truly."

"If you say so," Tony replied dubiously. "They're serving dinner. We should find our table."

Bruce nodded and let Tony lead the way, belatedly realizing that his breathing and heart rate were back to normal. (A small part of him wondered when that had happened, but most of him knew he had started to calm the moment Tony touched him. He just wasn't sure what that meant.)

At their table, he tried to focus on the meal and the conversation, but he was largely unsuccessful. He was only able to contribute the occasional comment as his mind tried to sort through why he had been so affected by the nasty comments about Tony. They were mean; they were horrible, but the men who made them posed no threat. They were holier-than-thou windbags who said things like that without even thinking about it, but would never follow through. They probably didn't even really mean them, and even if they did, it wasn't like Bruce could change their minds.

Yet Bruce had wanted to hurt them. Seriously hurt them. With a level of malice that he hadn't felt in a long time. . .and he had nearly lost control. That was no small problem.

He hadn't lost control, though. Mainly, again, because of Tony. As soon as his husband had touched him, he had immediately snapped out of it, and started to calm down. Why did the other man have such an influence on him? 

His eyes drifted to the subject of his thoughts, and he realized that Tony's usually smooth talk had faltered. Somewhere in the back of his mind, where he had been observing his surrounding even through his thoughts, he noted that this had happened a handful of times since they sat down. Tony seemed slightly frazzled. His face lined and tired, and the dark circles around his eyes barely concealed, ( . . .with make up? Huh, the other man really was going to great lengths to hide his exhaustion).

Bruce thought back and wondered if Tony was sleeping at all. For the last several nights, the engineer was still awake when Bruce made his way to bed, and without fail, he was up before Bruce in the morning. Originally, Bruce had attributed it to some breakthrough Tony was working on, but he could think of nothing new that Tony had accomplished in the lab without him. So what was causing his insomnia?

As he continued to contemplate what was happening with Tony, he realized that he had been staring at him an uncomfortably long time. He hoped Tony hadn't noticed.

"Look at him," an older woman at their table cooed. "He's absolutely smitten with his new husband. 

Bruce, I've barely seen you take your eyes off of him. You must really love him, huh? 

Tony, don't you dare let this one go!"

(So much for Tony not noticing.)

"I don't plan to. I know I got lucky finding Bruce," he answered sincerely.

"How exactly did you meet?" she asked.

"Well . . . It's a long story, but it ends with me becoming the luckiest man in the world when he agreed to fly to Las Vegas with me and marry me."

"You eloped? How romantic!"

"It wasn't exactly very well planned, and not at all worthy of Bruce. It should have been more romantic. Something as unique and amazing as he is, not some generic Vegas wedding, but it made me his husband, and I can never regret that."

Tony met his eye meaningfully, and Bruce nodded that he understood what he was saying, (he wasn't exactly subtle).

The woman squealed softly in delight at Tony's sappy statements. 

"Look at you, Tony. No one ever thought you'd be the type to settle down. No offense, but we all saw you jumping from girl to girl. Sleeping with a new person every night. It just seemed like you were too restless to ever commit. 

Sure, there was Pepper, but there was always something off about you two. Once again, no offense, but you never seemed to quite see eye to eye. Besides, I think she fell in love with the idea of you, and not who you truly were, and you fell in love with the stability she brought, but not who she was . . .just my opinion, dear.

You seem to have turned all that around though. You've chosen well, and settled down with such a polite and kind gentlemen. Someone who you look at like he hung the moon. Don't think I haven't noticed, Tony dear.

Doesn't hurt that he's handsome too," she added with a twinkle in her eye, and a slight poke with her elbow to Tony's side.

Bruce flushed and looked down at his lap.

"Your mother would most definitely have approved," she concluded with a smile.

Something briefly clouded Tony's face, but then he pasted on a (obviously fake) smile and thanked her. Then he turned his attention deliberately to his food, and the rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's head was reeling as they returned from the fundraiser. He wasn't sure what to do with all the thoughts and feelings the evening had dredged up. He was new to this whole being honest about his emotions thing.

First, there had been whatever had happened with Bruce. He'd seen him get into what looked like a heated discussion with two men from across the room, but by the time he had reached Bruce's side, the other men had gone and Bruce seemed frozen in his spot, growling softly and seemingly unaware of the world around him. Tony had tried several times to gain his attention, nearly panicking at his husband's unresponsiveness, before Bruce had suddenly snapped out of whatever it was, and acted like nothing had happened.

Tony was no fool though. He knew whatever had happened was something big, and he should probably ask Bruce about that soon. (Especially since he wasn't so sure that Bruce was telling the truth when he said that no one threatened him. And if someone threatened his Bruce . . . . . . )

Then, there had been the meal, where Bruce had studied him throughout almost the entire thing with a strange look on his face. He seemed to oscillate between concern and confusion, but Tony had no idea what thoughts were causing those expressions.

Finally, there had been Gennie. One of his mother's old friends. She was a nice enough lady, and he had liked her when he was a kid, but she had always been a meddler. So, true to her form, she had to ask all about his husband, and interfere as much as she could. Even worse, she had to drag his mom into it.

Tony sighed. He hoped that his mom would have approved of Bruce. Her approval had once meant everything. Still, he knew, even if she would have agreed that Bruce was an amazing man, she never would have approved of how they had been joined. She would have scolded him for thinking he could just order someone like that through some internet service, and she would have been downright disappointed in how he had treated his husband; not paying enough attention to him to realize how uncomfortable and miserable he had made him. (Not unlike his own father had done with his mother, not that she would have ever admitted that. But he hadn't been blind to the way his father had charged ahead, doing whatever he felt like doing, no matter how it affected anyone else. No matter the ways Maria had sometimes suffered for his actions.)

"Are you alright, Tony?" Bruce asked, his voice pulling Tony out of his reverie.

"I'm fine . . .but what happened, Bruce? I've never seen you like that before. The growling. It had to be something big . . . you've never done that before."

Bruce hesitated, but then sighed and answered.

"I overheard some people talking about you. They were saying awful things . . . "

"That's nothing new. It shouldn't be a surprise that a lot of people hate me."

"I suppose, but . . .they said you should die! That you should be killed by your own weapons!"

Bruce seemed surprisingly upset, and Tony had no idea how to respond. Still, he knew he was saying the wrong thing, even as he said it. He just couldn't stop the default glib answer from falling from his mouth.

"Them and a few dozen others."

"Is this just a joke to you?!?"

Bruce looked so stricken, he was taken slightly aback. Why did Bruce care so much?

"No, Bruce, it's not a joke. But I can't spend my life worrying about the people who hate me enough to want me dead. If I did I wouldn't ever do anything else. I'd have no time to actually live my life, and that's no way to live. You know that. You have people who've said they want you dead too."

"Yeah, but they actually meant it, and they would do it if they ever had the chance. It wasn't just amusing dinner conversation. What kind of sick person does that?!? How am I supposed to respond to them?!?"

Tony's jaw dropped as he heard Bruce's words. He was so blasé about the fact there were people who wanted to kill him. Couldn't he see how wrong his words were? But apparently not, since he seemed completely unaffected by the mention of those who hunted him, or their desire to see him dead, and that caused something to break in Tony. Before he could stop himself, he was yelling frantically back at a very startled Bruce.

"Obviously disgusting, pampered cowards do that, but are you truly implying that they're worse than the people who have chased you around the globe literally trying to kill you because they weren't sincere in their threats?!? Are you saying there's something noble about the people who hate you, because they would actually follow through on their threats?!?

The people you heard talking might be spineless and insincere, but at least you don't have to worry about them! You know they're sniveling cowards who would never act on their words!

How are you supposed to respond to them?!? Ignore them! That's all the more notice they deserve . . . but what about me! What am I supposed to do about the people who threaten you?!? Like you said, they really mean it. They've really devoted their lives to seeing you dead!

How am I suppose to respond, when right now they could be modifying the Hulkbuster, or creating a poison that's so fast-acting that you would die before you could regenerate, or designing a bullet that could counteract radiation and weaken Hulk, or maybe making some sort of device that could prevent you from transforming at all so they could kill you anyway they like!"

Bruce seemed taken aback by Tony's outburst. He looked at him with wide eyes, and held up his hands in surrender while he tried to soothe him, but that just made Tony all the angrier, (and a lack of sleep wasn't helping his judgment or inhibition any, if he was honest with himself).

Why did Bruce get be angry over some empty threats and then act like Tony was the unreasonable one when he had a valid concern for Bruce's safety?!?

Besides, he had more to lose than Bruce did. Didn't he?

He was only Bruce's friend? Roommate? He didn't even know . . .(and that was more than a little unsettling, which just added fuel to his anger), but he _knew_ what Bruce was to him.

"Don't look at me like that! You don't get to have a meltdown in a crowded room because some random people said something mean about me, and then act like I'm the crazy one when I get upset over legitimate threats against your life!

That's not the way this works!

You can't growl uncontrollably over petty threats to your roommate, or maybe your friend, or whatever I am to you, and then act like I have no right to be upset when people threaten the man I love!

I have no idea what I am to you . . .but I _know_ what you are to me . . .and if Ross, or any of those other people who hate you, succeed in their obsession, I don't know how I'd survive! It would be like having my heart ripped out of my chest!

So tell me my reaction is unreasonable! Go on! Tell me I'm overreacting! I dare you!

. . . You can't . . Can you? You can't, because the thought of someone hurting me had you growling like a rabid dog, and I think you'd mourn the loss of your insurance policy against Ross more than you would me!"

Bruce's eyes flashed, and his face turned dangerous. He waited a second before he spoke, but when he did his voice was low and sharp-edged.

"How dare you! I might not know exactly how I feel about you, but I care about you! You're not an insurance policy to me!

Besides, do you really think I'd ask the man who created the Hulkbuster to protect me?!? Not unless I was trying to keep my friends close and my enemies closer! I'd have to be an idiot to think the person who came closest to killing me would protect me! Especially with that laundry list you just gave of ways to kill me!

Tell me, did you work on all of those for General Ross too, or do you just like imagining ways you could off me in your spare time?!?"

"No, those are my nightmares," Tony whispered, suddenly feeling very tired and defeated.

He didn't have time for these games. For trying to outdo each other in insults and outrage. It was time for the bare truth.

"What?" Bruce questioned sharply.

"My nightmares! The things that haunt my sleep! That make it impossible for me to close my eyes, because all I can see, all I can think of, is all the ways that crazy man could hurt you! The ways he could take you away from me forever!"

A sob broke loose from him against his will. He had never meant to say that. He'd never meant to burden Bruce with his worries, but he couldn't keep them inside any longer. . .but now he couldn't face Bruce, not after he had been so raw, so he fled the living room and locked himself in his bedroom.

Sliding down the door, still sobbing, he tried to shut out the world around him, and find some escape from the chaos that had become his life. He searched for a calm within the storm, but it was no use. There was no way out of this storm but through it. He just wasn't so sure he could make it to the other side without drowning.


	37. Things that happened in the dark

"Tony?" Bruce called softly through the door as he knocked gently.

There was no response. 

"Tony, please, let me in. We need to talk . . . Besides you have nothing to be embarrassed about. This is what we do, right? 

We bury things deep inside, never daring to say them out loud, and let them torment us until lack of sleep and circumstances make us spew out all of our feelings in a rush of hurt and desperation. Then we regret it, and run and hide.

Admittedly, the system could use some work, but it's what we have."

He knew it was a weak joke, but he didn't know what else to say. He knew what it felt like to be so overwhelmed that you said the exact things you never meant to say . . .then again, maybe he should say that.

"Seriously, I do understand what it feels like to blurt out things you never meant to say, but Tony I'm glad you told me.

I was wondering why you weren't sleeping, and now I know. Now I know, and we can work toward fixing this. . .like maybe I could sleep in your room again? If that's okay with you, that is. 

I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but you never seemed to have nightmares when we shared a bed. . . And if your nightmares are about me, maybe knowing I was there would help? What do you think?"

The lock clicked, and the door slowly swung open to reveal Tony staring at him wide-eyed.

"This is why I didn't tell you," he whispered. "I didn't want to pressure you into anything you didn't want to do.

Bruce, you don't need to share a bed with me because I can't sleep. I'm a big boy. I'll figure it out.

Besides, you've been very clear that you don't want a physical relationship between us."

"For now."

"What?"

"I don't want a physical relationship between us _for now_. I'm just not ready yet . . .well, honestly, I might never be, but that's beside the point . . . Tony, you don't have to be physically intimate to sleep in the same bed. I think you're forgetting where I've been for the last decade. 

I've lived in places where I had to share a bed with three other men in factory barracks, and I've shared beds with complete strangers in makeshift hotels. Communal sleeping is not that strange in some parts of the world, so it wouldn't be a hardship to share a bed with you. You're my friend, and I trust you to respect my boundaries."

"What are your boundaries? How can I respect them, if I don't know what they are? It's not like you've given me a list of rules to follow when sharing a bed."

"No humping. No sleeping naked. It would be nice if you tried not to hog the covers. . . . That's pretty much it."

"I'm being serious, Bruce. 

Do you want me to stay on my side of the bed? Should there be a 'neutral zone' of space between us? Do you want some sort of barrier down the center of the bed? Or . . ."

"Why don't I just sew you into a burlap sack to make sure that you really keep your hands to yourself? . . . Tony, if you're that worried about this, we don't have to do it. I just thought it might help. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable! What if I cuddle up to you in the night? Wouldn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"When I worked in the factory, one of the guys used to spoon me every night. _-(and I hated it, but I survived. But that was him. With you it's not so bad._.)- I'll adjust. It wasn't that hard before."

"You weren't sleeping before!"

"That had nothing to do with your surprisingly koala-like tendencies in bed. That was all due to nightmares, and that would have happened either way!. . . .besides, I seem to remember you soothing me back to sleep after one of my nightmares, so maybe we could both benefit from this."

"Maybe . . .wait, you were awake for that? I thought you slept through it."

"I might not have opened my eyes, but I remember you running your fingers through my hair and telling me I was okay." ( _And rocking me like I was child, which should have been embarrassing, but it wasn't. It was just really comforting._ ).

"That didn't cross a boundary?"

"No, it was actually kind of nice." ( _Which is kind of weird, because I don't usually like to be touched, but you just made me feel relaxed and safe. I can't explain why._ )

"What about the night you moved across the hall?" 

Tony eyed Bruce suspiciously, as if he was trying to read the truth on his face before he could lie.

 _I need you to be honest with me. . . ._ Why did Tony's request have to be so hard?

"Honestly? The smell of alcohol on your breath triggered nightmares . . . Not that I'm not saying you can't drink. You're a grown man, and I have no right to tell you what to do . . .but maybe we should sleep in separate beds those nights?" Bruce admitted reluctantly.

Tony nodded thoughtfully.

"Okay. . . But if you ever feel the least bit uncomfortable you have to tell me, okay? I mean it, the least bit."

"Alright," he agreed.

"I promise," he amended when he saw the dubious look on Tony's face.

That seemed to appease Tony, who nodded strongly and gave Bruce a weak smile.

They were going to share a bed again . . .Bruce only hoped that it would help. He hated to see Tony so tired.

 _Maybe he'll actually sleep now. Losing as much sleep as he has been can't be good for him,_ he thought with an uninvited twinge in the pit of his stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 _This is a bad idea,_ Tony thought as he climbed into bed with Bruce.

In a perfect world, he and Bruce would share a bed, but in that world they would be a happily married couple and it would be _their_ bed. Bruce wouldn't just be sleeping in his bed out of some misplaced pity. 

That reality would be so much easier, because in this reality, even as Tony longed to be close to Bruce, he worried that he would do something that might irreparably damage their relationship by being in such close quarters when he was least guarded. Images ranging from accidental touches, to unwanted clinginess, to morning wood filled his mind. How could Bruce be so sure this would be okay? Tony could easily think of dozens of ways he could ruin things.

"Are you planning on sleeping halfway off the bed the entire night?" Bruce asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Revived from his daze, he realized the he was laying as close to the edge as possible. His left leg was almost falling out of the bed, and his left arm hung over the side of the mattress. Still, he didn't make any effort to move.

"I appreciate that you're trying to respect my space, but this is a little ridiculous. You're giving me nearly three-fourths of the bed . . . Tony would you be more comfortable if I left?"

He turned to looked at Bruce, (part of his mind screaming _Yes!_ while the rest wailed _No!_ , but his lips are unable to move to say either), slightly startled by the question. When he saw the other man's face he was further confused. It could be a trick of the light, but Bruce almost seemed . . .saddened . . .by the suggestion.

"No, Bruce, I don't want you to leave . . . .but I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Tony admitted with a sigh.

"You won't," Bruce answered simply.

"I just . . ."

"Would I make you uncomfortable if I touched you?"

"Well, no, but you . . ."

"Good."

Bruce's reply cut him off, and what happened next left him speechless. Bruce reached out his arms and wrapped them around Tony, gently but insistently pulling him toward his body. Before he could process what was happening, he found himself cradled in Bruce's arms, half on top of the other man, their legs tangled and his face smushed into his chest.

His first instinct was to put distance between them, but his resolve to give Bruce space was vanishing in degrees as he realized how warm and comfortable he felt in the other man's arms. The solid feel of Bruce's body beneath his was a siren call he couldn't resist. The weight of other man in his arms as he snaked them around his back and abdomen was too reassuring to forego. Furthermore, the soft thudding of his husband's heart under his ear as he snuggled his face deeper into his chest, had him fairly well convinced he would never want to leave this moment, where they were embraced and everything was right.

Or rather, everything felt like it could be right. Deep down he knew it wasn't, but that nagging voice that sought to remind him of everything that was wrong, or could possibly go wrong, was growing quieter as he drifted off to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruce looked down at the man cradled against his chest. He snored softly, looking peaceful in his sleep. Bruce hoped that his thoughts and dreams were as calm as his relaxed face. If the echoes of the finally lax, deep lines across the billionaire's face were any indication, it had been more than a few days since he had had a good night's sleep.

Tony shifted slightly his arms, and he stilled. He waited with held breath, to see if the other man would awake, but instead he just tightened his hold on Bruce and slept on. 

A soft smile crossed Bruce's face, and he felt an odd desire to plant a gentle, reassuring kiss against the other man's forehead. . . .why would he even think that? Parents tenderly kissed the brow of their children. Such a kiss was a sweet, imitate gesture between spouses. Tony may be his husband, but it would be an entirely inappropriate action between them, wouldn't it? Of course it would, because he didn't feel the protective, nurturing love the kiss implied . . . .did he? 

He could feel himself beginning to doubt his certainty that he didn't love the other man. The urge to kiss him, it had been so natural. There had been no hesitancy, or doubt, or overthinking to muddled everything, as there was in all of his other interactions with Tony. It had just been a simple desire that presented itself as if it had every right to be there, as if it were the organic course of action in their situation.

Could that mean . . .? Could he . . . .? No! This was an arrangement. A business transaction. They had become friends, which was more than he had hoped, and they genuinely cared about each other, but this was _not_ love. It couldn't be! They hadn't known each other long enough, and he didn't know Tony well enough, and . . . . .his excuses faded out seeming weak even in his own mind.

Maybe he did love Tony, he admitted to himself, but he still knew he couldn't say anything to the other man. Not until he was sure, because Tony had stated in no uncertain terms that he loved Bruce, and he couldn't lead him on if he was anything less than completely certain.

 _Besides,_ a dark voice sneered in the back corners of his mind, _if he knew what was good for him, he'd hope you didn't really love him. Everyone you love gets hurt. You ruin them. You destroy them with you so called 'love' like the monster you are._


	38. The return of Iron Man

Life returned to normal between Bruce and Tony. Well, as normal as life could be for them. The awkwardness that had seemed to build a wall between them faded as they learned how to communicate better. Work in the lab continued as effortlessly as ever, and they accomplished new things in leaps and bounds with the support of each other's expertise. Meals were something to look forward to again, as they found the comfortable camaraderie they had lost to uncomfortable silence, and Bruce became more insistent that they stop and eat. They learned to enjoy each other's company again, which was a relief to both of them, and they both loved the closeness between them when they turned in for the night and slept in each other's arms, (not that either of them would say as much, Bruce being too afraid to admit it, and Tony too afraid that it would be a sore subject since he still was convinced Bruce was sharing a bed with him out of pity or obligation).

A return to normal life, also meant a return to his work as Iron Man for Tony. Since he had married Bruce, he had taken a brief hiatus, wanting to make sure Bruce was settled before he started disappearing for hours or even days at a time, while he tracked down the remaining hoards of Stark weapons. Now that they had been together for a few months, and things finally felt more stable between them, he returned to his previous task, (and if took special pleasure in finding and destroying Hulkbuster missiles, well that was his business).

Besides, he had to admit, that even as stable, (more or less), as things had become between them, it was sometimes a relief to blow off steam by racing through the skies. It allowed him to get out of his head, and bury those moments of candor with himself where he knew that his current relationship with Bruce would never be enough. Sure, they had become great friends, colleagues, and living companions, but Tony wanted more. He wanted a true marriage. He wanted to be loved and desired in return, but he knew that was a near impossibility, and that hurt so badly that at times it was almost physically painful.

He wouldn't forgo his current situation though, no matter how painful it sometimes was. Bruce would never see him as more than a friend, but he didn't want anyone else. In a perfect world things would be different, but some of Bruce was better than none of him, even if he would never have his love or devotion like he might wish. So forgetting what could never be by pushing his thrusters to their limits and zooming through the air, or blowing things up with impunity, would have to do; and it did, for the most part.

That is, it worked until Tony started getting noticeably injured on his missions. It started with bruises from getting knocked around in the suit. Even that seemed to catch Bruce's notice, but he didn't do much about it other than casually ask Tony about shock absorption in the suit and offer a few suggestion for improving it. However, when a piece of shrapnel pierced the armor and created a gash that needed stitches, the doctor in Bruce was unable to sit idly on the sidelines. Instead, he insisted on treating all of Tony's injuries, which led to him checking Tony over after every mission as he realized how prone to hiding injury the other man was, (and JARVIS, for his part, regularly tattled on his creator when he tried to act like he was fine when he wasn't).

For Tony, this new development was torture. It wasn't that he distrusted Bruce, or that didn't want the other man to touch him, (quite the opposite), it was the way his careful ministrations to Tony's needs caused treacherous hope to rise in him. He would look at his concerned face when he came home beat up yet again, and wonder if his husband's tightly pinched brow and frown were more than the worry of a friend. Bruce's gentle touch would linger just a second longer than it needed to as he wrapped a wound, or assessed a possible sprain, and Tony would wonder if he had imagined it, or if it was intentional. All of which would led him to think that maybe, just maybe, Bruce could return his feelings, only to have his hopes dashed again when he realized that nothing ever seemed to change between them. At least not noticeably.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's desire to resume his activity as Iron Man didn't surprise Bruce. He understood intimately what it was like to feel the compulsion to make reparations for past wrongs. He had traveled the globe serving as a doctor to the poorest of the poor for that very reason. He also understood that the billionaire was bored easily, and being Iron Man provided him with something meaningful to do and an adrenaline rush all in one. 

He understood, and he would never ask Tony to give up his work as Iron Man, but that didn't mean he was happy when Tony came home beat up and injured after nearly every excursion he took in the suit. Trouble seemed to follow Tony, and he seemed to revel in it. Bruce found it less appealing.

Stitches for cuts and gashes, wraps for cracked ribs, and salves for minor burns became an all too regular part of their routine. He still wouldn't try to dissuade Tony from his actions, but that didn't stop the jolt of worry he felt every time Tony left in the suit. Nor did it prevent him from insisting that he give Tony a quick once over when he returned, (so that he could finally breathe again once he reassured himself that Tony was alright). Surprisingly, Tony offered little resistance to this, even as he provided the least amount of helpful information about his physical state as possible each and every time, (but he supposed that's why it was so handy to have JARVIS to keep Tony honest).

Bruce tried to remain clinical as he examined Tony, and cleaned and dressed his wounds, but he couldn't stop the flutter in his chest each time they made contact. He couldn't stop the racing of his heart and the churning of his stomach when an injury seemed particularly bad. He couldn't stay strictly professional and detached, and he hoped Tony didn't notice the affection he couldn't help but feel as he patched his husband back together.

He also couldn't continue to lie to himself. "I might love Tony" had become "I must love Tony" several sets of stitches into their new arrangement. The thoughts and feelings he experienced while caring for the other man were not those of a doctor, or even of a friend. They were the worry of a doting spouse, the caution of a man handling that which was most precious to him. It was in his every action and every thought, too obvious to be denied.

He still couldn't tell him though. Despite his attempts to be more honest with the other man, and Tony's feelings for him, he couldn't burden him with the love of a monster. This was one piece of information he needed to keep to himself, because it would just hurt Tony in the end. It would make him a target for Bruce's enemies, or lead to Bruce letting down his guard and then hurting Tony himself. So he made sure to keep his distance. Letting them continue to be friends, but being careful not to cross the line into more. It was for Tony's safety. He couldn't both love him and be his undoing. He wouldn't let himself do it.

That determination was sorely tested when a knock to the chest caused Tony's arc reactor to malfunction. The blow had loosened a wire, and Tony's hard landing, from far too quick a speed to be prudent, had jostled the loose wire and caused it to make contact with the metallic casing that housed the device. The result was a severe electric shock that sent his heart into arrhythmia.

Bruce had been standing to the side watching Tony's return, when the other man suddenly hit the floor. He rushed to his husband's side, stripped him of his suit, and began a frantic assessment; all while trying to keep his own heart from racing out of his chest and causing a hulk out. 

He quickly deduced that the reactor was at fault, and with JARVIS' instruction he managed to remove the device and temporary replace it with a battery. Then he worked frantically to restore order to Tony's chaotic cardiac rhythm.

With the other man out of immediate danger, he turned his attention to fixing the arc reactor. Despite his lack of access, he was able to convince JARVIS to allow him to look at Tony's plans, and with that information given to him, he was able to restore Tony's artificial heart to working order in less than half an hour.

When the reassuring glow of a blue circle of light was located back in its rightful place, and the adrenaline had worn off, Bruce fully realized just how close he had come to losing Tony. The thought made his chest hurt, in a convincing facsimile of a heart attack, (if the Other Guy actually allowed him to experience such a thing). He wondered if he could truly ever forgive himself if he let Tony die not knowing his love for Bruce was requited. 

"Thank you, Bruce," Tony whispered, interrupting his thoughts. 

"You may not feel so grateful when you realize that I had JARVIS override your access codes to look at your plans for the arc reactor," Bruce deflected, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the other man's gratitude.

"You saved my life. I think that more than makes up for any breach of privacy. 

Besides, there's no one I would trust more with my heart . . .well, the device that keeps it from getting ripped to shreds, but you get the idea," Tony stated sincerely.

"I'm not so sure I've earned that confidence," Bruce said sadly before he left the room, (though not before he asked JARVIS to contact him immediately if anything seemed the least bit off with Tony).

Hidden in one of the spare bedrooms, tears ran softly down Bruce's face. Tony trusted him with his heart. He wasn't worthy of such a task, and he was bound to fail. He remembered the fate of all the others he had loved. Pain, sorrow, death, and heartache. They had suffered because he loved them. They had been used as bargaining chips, and punching bags; their lives forfeited to vendettas others had against Bruce. It may seem cruel not to tell Tony that his feelings were returned, but in light of what Tony could suffer, (and no doubt would), if anyone ever knew of Bruce's true feelings for him, he would force himself to keep his mouth shut.


	39. Enter SHIELD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this is where the Avengers show up. There will be a lot of variation from the movie, because this is an AU! (ie Fury comes to recruit Tony, not Coulson, and Natasha is in the tower recruiting Bruce instead of in Germany with Cap and Tony), but it will still make references to it, including occasionally using lines directly from the movie. I'm going to try my best to mesh something new with the movie content. Let's see how it goes!

Bruce went stalk still, his hackles raised. He drifted closer to Tony, and cast a meaningful glance toward the lab door.

Tony turned to look as a tall man with an eye patch and a long, black leather coat swaggered through the lab door like he owned the building, (which he clearly didn't, since Tony did. The nerve!). He groaned internally, the last person he ever wanted to see was Nick Fury.

Speaking of nerve, Tony had a pretty good idea why the super, secret spy of spies was invading his tower, and he wasn't at all happy about it. He purposefully stepped out into the middle of room, (being sure to put himself between his unwanted guest and Bruce), with a face like thunder.

"How did you get in here?!? Wait . . . I don't care! Get out!" he yelled.

"Stark," the other man sighed with a long-suffering tone. "We need to talk."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm _sure_ we do. I'm sure you'd _love_ to _TELL_ me exactly what to do about my new husband . . . Quite frankly I'm surprised you didn't impose your _very_ unwelcome presence on us sooner . . .but you'll take Bruce over my dead body, and if our confrontation ends in my dead body, then JARVIS will cause the building to self-destruct. Spoiler alert, Hulk will survive the explosion, but you won't," he snarked.

"This has nothing to do with Dr. Banner. I could care less about your taste in men. This is about the Avenger's Initiative."

"The one that was scrapped? That I didn't even qualify for anyway? What was it? 'Volatile,' 'self-obsessed,' and 'doesn't play well with others,' or something like that?"

"I think that about covers it, but none of that matters now. We're facing a threat so great that personality profiles and other differences between us need to be put aside.

Simply put, we need your help."

Fury looked like he had swallowed a lemon as he admitted his need for Tony's assistance, but somehow remained as imposing as ever.

"And why exactly should I help you?" Tony challenged. "You haven't really given me much reason to trust you, even if you did point me in the right direction to fix the reactor. You're a lying liar who lies, _and_ you and yours have been after my husband for nearly a decade. So forgive me if you're one of the last people in the world I want to help."

"Because without your help there might not be a world."

"Is that supposed to scare me?"

"It should, because it's the truth. Honestly, I'm terrified."

Fury pulled a data disc out of one of his pockets and set it on a nearby lab table. Tony glared at him for a few moments, but then took the disc and put it into a reader. The schematics for some sort of strange cube appeared in holographic form.

"It's called the Tesseract, and it's been stolen."

Tony manipulated the holograms, quickly reading the information and equations that popped up explaining the device.

"The energy output on this thing is astronomical. You could power scores of large cities or . . . " 

"- destroy the entire planet. Now you know why we need your help. The thief is hardly planning to use the cube for peace and goodwill. Will you come?"

"Only if Bruce comes along."

"No," Fury responded firmly. "There's too much at stake. The last thing we need is another loose cannon."

"Bruce is not a loose cannon, and insulting my husband is hardly going to convince me to help you," Tony returned. "Besides, this says that the Tesseract emits gamma radiation. We might be able to trace it using its gamma signature, and we both know Bruce is the leading expert in the world on gamma radiation. No one knows it better than he does."

"Be that as it may, the risks of having Dr. Banner on the team outweigh the benefits."

"Why don't I just leave until you two are done?" Bruce suggested.

"No!" exclaimed Tony. "He can't just come in here and kick you out of your own lab."

The billionaire was sure he saw shock on the director's face when he called it 'Bruce's lab,' (he could share and play well with others when they were intelligent and reasonable like Bruce, thank you very much), but his face returned to it's usual hardened impassiveness too quickly to be sure.

"Just study up on the cube, and the guy who took it, and be ready to suit up and meet us," sighed the director, in his 'I don't have anymore time for this,' voice.

Tony turned his eyes back to the schematics. The Tesseract did seem like it could be a pretty big threat. He still wasn't sure why Fury was so resistant to get help from someone could ~~probably~~ , ( _definitely_ ), track the cube far more efficiently than Tony, but with so many lives possibly in the balance, he couldn't say no. 

"I'll be there in about eights hours."

"Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I don't care what Fury says, we need your help. I want you to study the information he gave me, and work on a way to track the cube. JARVIS can keep me informed of any progress you make," Tony instructed.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bruce questioned.

"I know you were reading over my shoulder the whole time. This Loki character, he's planning something big, and the sooner we can stop him the better. 

No one knows gamma rays like you, and if SHIELD is too stupid to acknowledge that, their loss, but I won't put countless lives in danger because of their oversight. And I know you won't either."

"You're right."

There was an alert on Tony's phone. He looked down in annoyance, but then started activating the assembly line to put on the suit.

"Alright, now I have to go. Loki's been located in Germany. . . I mean it, Bruce. Keep working on this, and keep in touch."

"I will."

Now encased in the Iron Man suit, Tony headed for the open roof access.

"Tony," Bruce called toward his retreating form hesitantly.

The suit turned around abruptly, Tony silent inside, but clearly listening intently.

"Be careful," Bruce admonished.

"Will do," came the tinny reply, (which surprisingly sounded far less flippant than Tony usually did when Bruce made such a request).

Bruce stood and watched the red and gold figure shrink into the distance, and then stood there dazed for several moments even after it had vanished from sight. He couldn't shake the awful feeling he had about this entire situation.

He sighed and turned back to where he had been roughing out a tracking algorithm. There were still so many unknowns, making it was tough to know what frequency to use. Maybe if he checked the information on the disc again, he would find something he missed, but when he turned to the reader, he found it empty.

As he looked around the lab for the missing disc, he heard the telltale whir of DUM-E's treads behind him. It was a long shot, but maybe . . .

"DUM-E have you seen . . ." Bruce stopped short as he turned toward the bot and realized he had the data disc held in his claw. "Thank you."

Bruce held out his hand for DUM-E to give him the missing disc, but instead he revved his small motor and fled in the other direction.

"DUM-E? DUM-E! What are you doing!?!"

He chased after the errant bot, calling after him to return. Lost in the chase, he followed DUM-E through several hallways and back into a disused conference room, where a red-headed woman was waiting.

"Shoulda been paying attention, Banner," he scolded himself under his breath.

"You know for a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress, you sure picked an interesting person to settle down with. Stark is probably one of the most irritating people in the world," she commented.

"It's not avoiding stress . . .but what do you know about Tony Stark? You shouldn't believe everything you read."

"I don't, but I think the months I spent as his personal secretary for SHIELD were evidence enough. He's an obnoxious, lecherous, pain-in-the-ass, but you already knew that."

"All I know, is you somehow spent all that time with him, and you still have no idea who he really is."

She studied him for a second, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Ah. Does he know?"

"Does he know what? That SHIELD waited until he left on an errand for them, and then broke into his home to capture his husband."

"I'm not here to capture you, Dr. Banner."

"You waited until business hours were over and the tower was empty, smart. But I think you'll find that if you and your team try to imprison me, Tony won't stand for it. So maybe not so smart after all."

"There is no team. I came alone. Just you and me. No tricks."

"Just you and me? No tricks? You expect me to believe that?

So breaking and entering, then reprogramming DUM-E was you being straightforward, Ms. . . . Oh, wait! You haven't even told me your name!"

"Romanov. Natasha Romanov."

"Ms. Romanov, why are you really here? If not to capture me, are you here to kill me then? Because that won't end so well."

"No. I'm here because SHIELD thinks you could help us track the Tesseract. It's a . . . ."

"I know what it is. I was in the lab not eight hours ago when your director broke in to tell Tony about it, and very actively _not_ try to recruit me to help. What's changed since then?"

"Maybe he's been convinced of your usefulness."

"Or maybe he's been convinced I'd been better off in a cage, and saw an opportunity to act while Tony was away."

"No one wants you in a cage. We just want your help."

Well, they seemed to be at an impasse. She was going to keep claiming to only want his help, unless . . . .

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" 

Natasha tensed and grabbed a gun she had stashed nearby, and a dozen agents materialized from the vents also aiming guns at him. She was breathing heavily, clearly terrified, but she wasn't firing and had her hand held up to stop the others' attack as well. If she were looking for an excuse to hurt him or attack him, he had just given her the perfect one, but she seemed reluctant to act, and it wasn't just because of her fear. She was telling the truth. They really did want his help.

"I'm sorry. That was mean," he apologized. "I wanted to see what you'd do. Why don't we do this the easy way? Where you don't use that, and the Other Guy doesn't make a mess? Okay?"

She looked at him warily, gun still trained at his head.

"Natasha," he said as gently as he could, trying to shake her out of her fight or flight response.

"Stand down," she ordered.

"'Just you and me'," he scoffed with a dark chuckle as he followed her out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You didn't answer my question early. Does he know?" Natasha asked suddenly, breaking the silence in the Quinjet.

"Does he know what?" Bruce asked obtusely, even though he was fairly sure he understood what she meant.

"Does he know that you love him? 

It's pretty clear he loves you. He'd do anything for you. 

He stayed out of the suit for months to be with you. We thought he'd retired, because he'd never gone so much as a week without making an appearance as Iron Man. Not even when he was with Pepper and she begged him to stop. Not even when the extra strain on the reactor from the suit was slowly poisoning him."

"Poisoning him?"

"The original model used palladium."

"Palladium?!? But that would . . . ."

"Exactly. So you see my point, doc?"

He didn't say anything, unwilling to talk about this subject with anyone, least of all some shady spy.

"He doesn't, does he?" she concluded.

"Why does it matter?" he replied, his voice heavy with annoyance.

"You're right. It doesn't matter that we all might be dead tomorrow, and the man who loves you doesn't know that you love him too."

He studied her a moment, and realized she was talking as much about herself as she was about him.

"Who is he?" he asked.

"What?"

"Oh, you can pry into my personal life, but I can't ask about yours? Who's this man who doesn't know that you love him?"

"It doesn't matter. He's been compromised. Loki's controlling his mind now. He might never be coming back."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We have a mission to focus on. They'll be time for regrets later. . . . .at least if we do this right there will."

Bruce shook his head in incredulity. What was he getting himself into?


	40. Helicarriers and Hulk Cages

Tony tried to clear his head as he removed his suit in the cargo area of the Helicarrier. Something wasn't right about this. It was like Loki wanted to be captured. What was his game? The iridium, Dr. Selvig; all of that made sense. But getting captured? Why would he do that? It must figure into his plan, but Tony couldn't see how.

He also wasn't thrilled to see the near indestructible cell that they put Loki into. It wasn't that he objected to Loki being contained, far from it, but one look at the cell made it clear who they had in mind when they built it. Fury might have claimed that he had no interest in Bruce, but he had a super-secret Flying Fortress with a Hulk-proof cage that proved otherwise. He just wondered how long it would have been before they tried to bring Bruce in if it weren't for the current crisis, (speaking of which, he should probably do some hacking to find out what they were planning). That considered, maybe he should be grateful that Fury refused to let Bruce come along.

Still thinking about the benefits of keeping Bruce far, far away from SHIELD, Tony walked onto the bridge of the Helicarrier and nearly stopped short when he saw Bruce standing with the other Avengers. So much for keeping distance between SHIELD and his husband. He should have known Fury was just being petty when he refused to let Bruce consult. The director had probably turned around and recruited Bruce the second he left. That would be just like him.

He must have been staring, because Natalie . . . _Natasha_ , was giving him a strange look. He needed to refocus on what was happening. Bruce was talking. He was speculating about the iridium . . . .

"It's a stabilizing agent," Tony broke in, drawing all eyes in the room onto him. "It means the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD."

Bruce seemed to follow, but the rest looked at him vacantly. 

He noticed that Thor was glaring at him, so he made a snarky comment, but then turned his attention back to Bruce.

"Also it means the portal can open as wide, and stay open as long, as Loki wants."

As he spoke, Tony moved toward the main computer. Now was as good a time as any to plant his bug. He just needed a distraction . . But what? Then he looked to the right and saw . . .perfect!

"That man is playing Galaga!" he accused as he pointed at the offender. "He thought we wouldn't notice . . .but we did."

The group behind him groaned, and a few more obnoxious comments later, they were paying so little attention to him, that he easily placed his device right along the side of one of the screens from the central console as he continued to go on.

"The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can gets his hands on pretty easily. The only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density. Something to kick start the cube."

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" Hill snarked.

 _Really? You realize I'm a genius, right?_ Tony thought to himself.

"Last night. The packet. Selvig's notes? The Extraction Theory papers? Am I the only one who did the reading?" he shot back.

He made sure his voice implied that the answer was obvious to anyone with half a brain, which earned an annoyed huff and eye roll from Hill and Fury, ( _mission accomplished_ ).

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Captain America asked, sounding fairly annoyed as well.

It was a reasonable question, as loath as Tony was to admit it, so he was about to answer it, when Bruce broke in.

"He'd have to heat the cube to one hundred twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier."

"Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect," Tony countered.

"Well, if he could do that, he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet," Bruce returned.

"Finally, someone who speaks English. I'm glad to see they brought you onboard for this project, Dr. Banner," Tony commented as he glared at Fury and then crossed the room to stand by Bruce. "I think they'll find that your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled, and no one knows gamma radiation like you do . . .plus, I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous, green, rage monster. That might come in handy."

Tony knew he probably shouldn't have pushed, especially when Bruce glared at him as he flatly thanked him, but he felt that it needed to be said. Fury be damned, if things got nasty, Bruce might need his greener self, and Tony felt they needed to acknowledge the one ton Hulk in the room. 

"Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube," the director responded pointedly.

He leveled a one-eyed stare at Tony, but the billionaire returned as good as he got. No way was he letting some creepy spy limit Bruce's options. If he needed to hulk out for any reason, then that was what he was going to do. And there would be absolutely no repercussions for Bruce. Fury needed to know that right now. Tony wasn't playing games, or taking chances where Bruce was concerned.

"I was hoping you might join him," the super spy added; possibly as an olive branch, but more likely just to get Stark out of his hair.

The staring contest lasted a few more seconds before Tony relented, and followed Bruce toward the lab.

They had only made it a few steps out of the view of the bridge when Bruce redirected him into a closet.

"What was all that about?" he hissed. 

"They never would have figured it out on their own. I mean sure, I could have been more polite about it, but . . . ." Tony started.

"Not that! Why would you bring up the Other Guy!?!"

"Well, given Loki's current accommodations were clearly not built with him in mind . . . ."

"Exactly! They want _me_ in that cage! Why would you purposefully antagonize them!?! Did I piss you off or something?!? Have you decided I'm too much trouble and you want me locked away?!?"

"I would never! You should know that by now!"

"Then, what?!! What am I supposed to think!?!"

"That I'm looking out for you! That I will always look out for you!"

"I fail to see how antagonizing the scary pseudo-government people with the Hulk-proof cage is looking out for me!"

"Bruce, let's be honest, this is going to get nasty before it's over, and you might not have a choice. You might need to hulk out. . . "

"There's always a choice! I'm not going to do that!"

"Like I said, you might need to hulk out, and if you do, they need to know right now that if they come after you they cross me. They'll wish they never even thought of building that cage if they so much as look at you funny. That's what I was telling them."

"Really?!? Because I think that may have gotten lost in translation!"

"You worry too much, Bruce."

With that, Tony patted Bruce on the shoulder twice and then walked out of the closet. Bruce sighed a "maybe you just don't worry enough" under his breath as he left behind him, and they made their way to the lab.


	41. Tony Stark, Hulk advocate

Once they reached the lab, Bruce and Tony fell into their normal, comfortable work routine. Well, maybe not quite. It was next to impossible for Bruce to be anything but jumpy while on a vessel that belonged to a government organization, but working with Tony certainly took some of the edge off.

Well, at least it did, until Tony seemed to develop an obsession with the Hulk and talk about him nonstop. 

"You know all he does is try to protect you," Tony commented as they worked.

"Who?" Bruce asked dubiously, fairly sure he already knew what Tony meant, (and far from happy about the assertion).

"Your greener self. All he does is protect you. That's what he did at Culver University, and in Harlem. You were in danger, and Hulk protected you."

"By killing dozens of people and destroying even more property?!"

"Okay, so he's not the most gentle about it. . . We can work on that-"

"Really?!? How are we going to work with a monster?!?"

"He's not a monster. He's just a little overzealous. But considering the thing he's a little overzealous about is protecting you, I can hardly blame him. I'm completely sold on the worthiness of the cause, I just think we could work on his approach a little."

"You're unbelievable! . . . You said it yourself, Tony, on the bridge. 'I'm a huge fan of the way you _lose control_ and become an enormous, green _rage monster_.' 

I lose control, Tony. I get angry, and I lose control. There is no directing that. It's uninhibited rage. I become a monster."

Tony rolled his eyes.

"I'd be a pancake if you had no control. I've pissed you off enough times."

"Tony . . . "

Tony reached around with a small electrical probe, as his husband geared up to go on another anti-Hulk rant, and gently prodded Bruce in the side.

"Ow!" called out Bruce, his argument effectively derailed.

"See! Nothing!" Tony cried triumphantly as he leaned in to look closer at Bruce. "Your eyes didn't even turn green! You've really got a lid on it, haven't you?"

Bruce rolled his eyes, but before he could answer-

"Hey! Are you nuts?" called Captain America indignantly as he swept into the lab.

"What's your secret? Mellow jazz? Bongo drums? Huge bag of weed?" Tony continued as obnoxiously as possible, pointedly ignoring the captain and his judgmental tone.

If he thought he could swoop in, playing the hero in full uniform nonetheless, and ruin what little progress Tony was making toward helping Bruce except his angrier half, then he had another thing coming. He was going to leave Bruce alone.

"Is everything a joke to you?" the super soldier returned, taking the bait and turning on Tony.

"Uh . .funny things are," Tony returned with mock deliberation.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't funny," he declared firmly; Bruce winced a little so he quickly added, "no offense, doctor."

Tony glared at him hard enough to burn holes straight through him; well, if such a thing were possible. Captain Self-Righteous was making Bruce fidgety and uncomfortable. He could practically feel the waves of insecurity and guilt radiating off of the other man, who seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible.

"No it-it's alright . . . I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things." ( _"What are you playing at, Tony? They already don't like us. Even Captain America's afraid of me. Don't make this worse!_ )

"You're tip-toeing, Brucie. You need to strut." ( _"Screw what they think. We've got this. We can take care of ourselves. And I have just the guy in mind to help . . ."_ )

Then Mr. Holier-than-Thou went on to scold Tony about several things, which was more than a little annoying. Not that Tony didn't give as good as he got, by countering every condescending assertion with a snarky rejoiner or a passive-aggressive assertion of his own. Plus, their argument did get the Captain's focus off of Bruce as a monster, and gave him another chance to see incredibly-smart-and-intuitive-Bruce and remind him why he was an asset. It even looked like Spangles might have actually listened to their doubts about Fury, (however reluctantly, though Tony's confrontational presentation of his doubts probably didn't help, but he really couldn't be blamed for being annoyed with Captain Righteousness, could he?),and it couldn't hurt to not be the only ones wary of his motives. Something was definitely off there, and the more people who knew that the better.

" _That's_ the guy my dad never shut up about? Wondering if they shouldn't of just keep him on ice," Tony grumbled as the object of his complaints finally left.

"The guy's not wrong about Loki, he does have the jump on us," Bruce conceded.

"What he's got is an ACME dynamite kit. It's gonna blow up in his face, and I'm gonna be there when it does," his husband countered.

"Just stay out of the blast radius so I don't have to patch you up too much afterward," he joked weakly, hoping it covered his actual worry.

"Or you could come along, and keep me out of blast zone by suiting up yourself," Tony declared.

"Now that doesn't seem like a very good idea. It's not like putting on a suit. I'm not protected, and I certainly couldn't protect anyone else. . .when it happens, I'm exposed, like a nerve. It's a nightmare . . .that's not the type of thing you choose," Bruce replied bitterly.

"Bruce, I had a hole carved into my chest in a cave in Afghanistan, so someone could use an electromagnet and a car battery to keep shrapnel out of my heart.

This," he put his hand over his arc reactor, "is not something that you choose, but it's part of me now. My greatest protection and my greatest weakness. Not just armor. It's a terrible privilege."

"Yes, but you created the arc reactor. You can control it. It's on your terms."

"Only because I took what was done to me, and I learned how to control it on my terms."

"It's different."

"How?"

"The reactor keeps you alive. It prevents destruction. What has the Other Guy ever done but cause destruction?"

It was like Bruce hadn't been listening, or he was willfully ignoring Tony's point. So he crossed the room in a couple of purposeful strides and stood directly in front of Bruce, minimizing all of the data in front of him so he had no choice but to stare directly back at Tony. He was going to listen this time, and there was going to be no mistaking the point. Tony was just going to state it plainly.

"Hey, I've read all about your accident. That much gamma exposure, should have killed you. . ."

"So you're saying that the Hulk, the Other Guy, saved my life?"

Tony nodded. He finally got it! But he didn't get long to celebrate before Bruce spoke up again, his voice full of bitterness.

"That's nice. It's a nice sentiment . . . Saved it for what?"

Tony felt like he'd been punched in gut.

 _'For me. For us. For what we have together. Surely our life together can't be so bad you'd rather be dead? That you'd rather never have met me?'_ he thought mournfully.

He didn't let his thoughts show on his face though. He just levelly replied, "I guess we'll find out."

"You may not enjoy that." ( _'I could break you.'_ )

"You just might." ( _'Or we could be happy together.'_ )

Bruce blew out a long, exasperated breath.

"Let's just find this thing and go home."


	42. A chemical mixture that causes chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes the title of the chapter is a line from the movie. It's one of my favorites lines . . . .along with almost everything Bruce says. : ) but I'm not biased or anything.

Before long, Bruce finished the tracking algorithm. Now all that was left was to wait for a hit at the correct frequency. The scanners were working as quickly as they could, but there was a lot of ground to cover.

"Looks like everything's in order," Tony commented as he checked over the program one more time. "Now let's see what dirty, little secrets SHIELD has been hiding."

He rubbed his hands together, and then opened a new window to bring up the information that had been decrypted so far.

"What are you looking for? Do you have keywords, a purpose behind this, or are you just trying to piss Fury off? Is this revenge for him hacking your security system at the tower?" Bruce asked with mild curiosity.

"Are you serious?!? He has a Hulk-proof cage, and you want to know what I'm looking for?!? I want to know everything SHIELD knows, or thinks they might know, or have ever planned, or have plans to plan, related to you. That way we'll be one step ahead of them. Pissing Fury off is just a bonus."

"Do you really think it'll be that easy? You'll decrypt some files, we'll prepare, they'll know we took countermeasures, and then they'll leave me alone?"

"I think, that forewarned is forearmed. I also think, that this is another way to send them the message that I'm not going to stand for them interfering in your life. I'll use every resource at my disposal against them, no matter how many toes it steps on, and they'll only ever lay a finger on you over my dead body."

"Yeah, that last part's what I'm worried about," Bruce muttered. "I don't think you should tempt them."

"I'm not worried. Fury may not like me. Hell, he might even hate me, but he knows that it's not in his best interest to kill me. And the rest of SHIELD marches to his drum."

"You're willing to bet your life on that? For a monster?"

"I'm willing to bet my life on it for _my husband_."

"You really have the worst taste in men."

"My taste in men is exquisite. I'm married to the best one on the planet, and I don't plan on losing him any time soon. . . Especially not to the likes of creeps like SHIELD."

Tony's declaration filled Bruce with a combination of affection and dread. Tony really did love him, he realized, (not for the first time), and this time he was willing to admit that he loved Tony just as much. However, good intentions aside, Tony was stupid if he thought he could go around making enemies of secret government organizations and not have consequences. Bruce's stomach tied in knots as he thought about what they might do to his husband, and his protective side reared its head. He might have to let the Hulk out after all, thought he certainly hoped it wouldn't come to that. 

Better to focus on the moment, and what they could do now. The information Tony gathered actually could be helpful.

"So how long do you figure you have until they figure out you've hacked their system?"

"An hour, maybe two. . . Wait, what's this?"

Bruce crossed the room to look over Tony's shoulder, right before Director Fury stalked into the lab.

"An hour and twelve minutes," Tony mumbled looking at the time.

"What are you doing, Mr. Stark?" the director boomed.

"Uh . . . Kind of wondering the same thing about you," Tony returned.

"You're supposed to be locating the Tesseract," he grumbled wearily.

"We are," Bruce broke in, trying to calm things down a bit. "The model's locked and we're sweeping for the signature now. When we get a hit, we'll have the location within half a mile."

"And you'll get your cube back. No muss. No fuss. . . What's Phase II?" Tony responded, quickly going from nonchalant to accusing.

"Phase II is SHIELD used the cube to make weapons," Steve remarked as he walked in carrying a huge gun.

Bruce fidgeted by Tony's side, clearly upset that what he had seen on the screen wasn't just hypothetical.

"Sorry, the computer was moving a little slow for me," Steve remarked mock apologetically.

Bruce was briefly amused by what a cocky bastard Rogers was. For all the hero-worship in the history books, he had a snarky edge to him that was far more like Tony than either one of them would probably want to admit.

"Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. That doesn't mean that we're . . ." Fury started to try to calm the very angry looking captain.

Bruce started shaking his head. Some things never change.

"I'm sorry, Nick. What were you lying?" Tony snarked as he turned the screen so Steve and Fury could see the designs he had found.

"I was wrong, Director. The world hasn't changed a bit," Steve remarked flatly.

"It never does. All organizations like this do is lie," Bruce added.

"Did you really think we wouldn't find out?" Tony accused.

"How long have you been lying?" Roger questioned. "Was anything you told me real?"

"Calm down. Let's just talk this over," Fury tried.

"So you can try to sell us more lies?" Tony scoffed.

The door opened behind Fury, and interrupted their argument as Natasha and Thor walk in. The lab was getting far too crowded for Bruce's comfort, and he didn't like the look Natasha was giving him.

Speaking of Natasha . . . .

"Did you know about this when you came to recruit me?" he accused Natasha.

"You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?" she suggested levelly.

"I'm not the one who chose to get involved in this," he returned with an edge to his voice.

"Loki's manipulating you," she tried again.

"And you've been doing what exactly?" Bruce scoffed.

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you," she reminded, indicating Stark not-so-subtlety with her eyes.

"Yes, and I'm not leaving because you suddenly get a little twitchy," ( _and leaving him to the sharks, or letting you and your shady organization take countless, innocent lives_ ) he said determinedly. "Now, I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction."

For a moment the room went silent. Bruce wasn't too surprised. It wasn't an uncommon reaction when he raised his voice in a room full of people who knew what he was, (though he was a little surprised by Tony, until he realized that the billionaire was nodding as he stood near his side but back a step, as if he were making a literal show of having Bruce's back).

"Because of him," Fury admitted in resignation as he gestured toward Thor.

"Me?" Thor asked in confusion.

"Last year Earth had a visitor from another planet, who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned," Fury explained.

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet," Thor argued.

"But you're not the only people out there, are you? And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled," the director countered.

 _Like me?_ Bruce thought. _Were you planning to use that against me?_

As if sensing his thoughts, Tony moved closer and gently put a hand on Bruce's shoulder, squeezed gently, and then dropped his arm back to his side.

"Like you controlled the cube?" Steve questioned viciously; (Bruce was really starting to like how direct the super soldier was. He might not be so bad after all).

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is a signal to all the realms that the Earth is ready for a higher form of war," Thor stated, his tone grave.

"A higher form?" Steve questioned.

"You forced our hand. We had to come up with something," Fury asserted.

"A nuclear deterrent, 'cause that always calms everything right down," Tony mocked.

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?" The director defended.

"I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck-deep . . . " Steve started, (and okay, he was a lot less amusing when his sharp tongue was directed at Tony. What did he know about Tony? How dare he accuse him of something like he knew him, when he met him only a few hours ago.)

"Wait! Wait! Hold on! How is this now about me?" Tony piped up, (and Bruce heard the forlorn _"I thought we were on the same side here."_ that went unspoken).

"I'm sorry, isn't everything?" Steve mocked.

Thor said something, but Bruce missed it as he glared at Rogers. Whatever fondness he had been starting to feel for the super soldier was suddenly gone as the soldier mocked Tony like he had every right and justification to do so.

He tuned back into the conversation in time to heard Fury mocking Thor.

"Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?"

Steve and Tony exchanged a few more verbal parries, advancing on each other in the chaos that ensued, and Bruce had to consciously calm himself down. He breathed deeply, and crossed his arms tightly in front of himself, but it was only helping so much. He was growing angrier and getting more tightly wound by the second.

Thankfully, Thor's voice broke through the noise, and gave him something else to concentrate on.

"You speak of control, yet you court chaos," he returned levelly, and wasn't that just the heart of the issue.

"It's his M.O., isn't it?" Bruce agreed bitterly. "I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're . . .we're a time bomb. ( _I'm going to hurt Steve if he doesn't stop soon._ )"

"You need to step away," Fury ordered, after looking toward Bruce's clenched fists and crossed arms.

"Why shouldn't the guy left off a little steam? ( _I've got this. You're okay. Don't worry._ )" Tony remarked casually, while subtly moving between between Bruce and everyone else in the room.

"You know damn well why! Back off!" Steve said vehemently, stepping right into Tony's space.

Tony leveled him with a cold glare, "Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me. ( _You talk about my husband like he's some sort of out-of-control beast, or a bomb about to go off, and I **will** fight you. How dare you!_ )"

"Yeah, big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?" Steve bated.

Bruce gritted his teeth and breathed through his nose. 

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist," he returned coolly.

Bruce nodded subtly behind him, showing his agreement, but he saw the slightly hurt hunch to Tony's shoulders. He took a few more deep breathes to refocus himself, and decided to trust Tony. He had told him he had this.

"I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you," the captain sneered.

Rogers was an idiot. Didn't he realize that Tony had been drawing fire toward himself and away from Bruce since the moment he stepped foot on the Helicarrier?!? 

But one look at Tony's face showed that he believed him wholeheartedly. It was just a glimmer in his eye, under the mask of neutrality, but it was enough to stoke Bruce's rage to boiling. No one hurt his husband like that. Not unless they wanted to become a pancake.

"I think I'd just cut the wire," Tony said neutrally.

"Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero," Steve dismissed.

"A hero? Like you?" Tony asked sharply, his hurt briefly shining through. "You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle."

In that moment, Bruce saw clearly just how deeply Steve's words cut. He read every subtext in his body language that spoke of how Tony's father had held up Captain America as some impossible ideal, as some brilliant role model that Tony should aspire to. He heard the unspoken pain that explained that Tony had felt invisible and unworthy in comparison, and now he felt that it was all deserved, because that childhood idol had validated every fear Tony had of not being good enough. Fuck Steve. 

Bruce started yelling, but he had no idea what he said, only that everyone else was yelling too.

"Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds," Steve challenged.

Not likely.

"Yeah, this is a team . . . ( _So this is how the legendary Captain America leads?!? He's just a big bully. Beating those who dare to disagree into submission?!_

 _If you mess with him, you mess with me. That's a team for you. And I don't think you'll fair so well after a few rounds with me._ )" Bruce heard himself snark as he turned a menacing glare toward the captain.

"Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner to his . . ." Fury started.

"Where? You're renting my room," Bruce returned viciously, gesturing harshly just in case Natasha had thought to follow the order.

"The cell was just . . . ." Fury started to explain levelly, but Bruce had had enough of his bullshit.

"In case you needed to kill me," he interrupted bluntly.

He felt Tony's eyes snap over to look at him, followed by Steve's as he realized that Tony was distracted.

"But you can't!" he continued. "I know, I tried!"

Everyone in the room was staring at him now, and Tony looked like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"I got low," he explained, mainly for Tony's benefit. "I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth," he tried not to notice the way Tony flinched or looked like he wanted to cry; he needed to say this, "and the Other Guy spit it out. So I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk. ( _I don't have control. Get yourself to safety. They're about to see me at my worst_ ). You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanov? You wanna know how I stay calm?"

They looked nervous, good. They were frozen to their spots, (all except for Tony who still looked devastated over Bruce's other confession, but he was trying not to focus on him), and Fury was even reaching for his gun, though it wouldn't do him much good.

"Dr. Banner, put down the scepter," Steve said levelly, trying to hide his fear, but Bruce could hear it anyway.

Bruce looked down at his hand, and realized he was clutching tightly to Loki's scepter. When had that happened?

He only had a moment to ponder that turn of events before the computer beeped and brought him out of his rage-induced trance.

"Sorry kids. You don't get to see my party trick after all," he dismissed as he walked over to the display.

He brought up the GPS coordinates of the possible signature match as the room descended into arguing again over who would recover the Tesseract. He tried to tune it out, even as Tony and Steve started to threaten each other again. There was something familiar about the coordinates.

"Oh my God!" he breathed, as he realized they were the coordinates for Stark Tower.

He turned to tell Tony, when suddenly everything was rocked by an explosion.


	43. Why we fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Lines taken from the Avengers Movie are not mine

Tony stood staring out of the patched, broken window that Hulk had jumped through. Fighter pilots under Loki's control had opened fire on the rage-fueled incarnation of his husband, and the confrontation had ended with Hulk destroying their jets and falling from the sky.

Bruce was gone. He'd fallen who-knows-where, and could have been hurt, or even killed, upon impact. Even if he was physically okay, he might be heading halfway around the world to escape the shame of having Hulked out. There was no way to know.

All Tony could do was stare, and wonder what had happened, feeling equal parts numb and like his insides were being torn apart.

Part of Tony held out hope that Bruce had been right when he said that the drop-trap cage SHIELD had designed wouldn't kill him, because if he could survive that, surely he could survive the fall. (He thought he had read something in the SHIELD files about Bruce surviving a drop from a helicopter before the Harlem incident, so there was hope.) However, most of him was terrified. What if they were too high up? What if even Hulk couldn't survive the drop? What if he had been weakened by taking machine gun fire, and what would normally be a survivable drop became deadly?

"He wasn't just your employee, was he?" Steve asked from where he had materialized behind him.

"My employee? What makes you think Bruce is my employee?"

"I just . . .the way you bragged about his achievements, y'know how smart and amazing he was, like you were congratulating yourself on finding the best and the brightest . . .and the way he followed your lead, and never complained when you poked and prodded at him . . . I just thought . . .maybe he worked for you. I thought he was too afraid to stand up for himself when you needled him about the Hulk, because you were the boss. . . I guess I made a bad assumption.

You weren't harassing him, were you? You were letting him know you had his back if he Hulked out. You were friends, weren't you?"

"Best friends, and more. 'Til death do us part."

"Married? You were married?!? . . . . I can't believe it."

"Bruce is my husband. . . Is that a problem for you?"

"No, I just didn't know. Some things have changed a lot since my time. 

We were lucky enough that several parts of Brooklyn were pretty accepting, but there was never any hope of actually _marrying_ your best guy. It was either stay a 'confirmed bachelor' the rest of your days, or settle down with some nice dame. 

I guess I just didn't think that would change."

"Wait . . . 'We'? Are you saying . . ."

"Buck and I were never just friends, but no one could ever know that. Too bad he never got to see a world where things could have been different."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. I know what you're going through. It feels like a piece of you was ripped away. Like you'll never be whole again. . . I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. I'm so sorry, Tony."

"He might have lived. He's almost indestructible. I'm not willing to declare myself a widower yet. . . And either way, Loki isn't going to get away with this. He made it personal."

"We can't get lost in revenge. That isn't the point. We need to think. He needs a power source. . .so where . . . ."

"But it _is_ Loki's point. He made it personal. He hit us all right where we live; went after the people we love: Barton, Selvig, Banner, it wasn't random. He's drawing us out. He knows he can't win without beating us, and he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience."

"Yeah, I caught his performance in Stuttgart."

"That was previews . . .this is opening night. And Loki, he's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built in the sky with his name plastered . . .son of a bitch!"

"What?"

"Gather Barton and Romanov, and head to Stark Towers. That's where we'll find Loki."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You fell out of the sky," stated an unfamiliar voice.

Bruce tried not to groan as he slowly opened his eyes, and saw that the owner of the voice was an older gentlemen dressed in a security guard uniform. 

He squinted against the bright light of the afternoon sun, wanting to reclose his eyes and collapse into a heap. Everything hurt, and he was dusty, naked and in a pile of rubble. That combined with his inability to remember how he ended up in said rubble heap could only mean one thing.

"Did I hurt anybody?" He asked earnestly.

"There's nobody around here to get hurt. You did scare the hell out of some pigeons though," the guard said with a dry chuckle.

"Lucky," Bruce replied bitterly. 

"Or just good aim. You were awake when you fell."

"You saw?"

"The whole thing, right through the ceiling. Big and green and buck-ass nude. Here. . .I didn't think those would fit you until you shrunk down to a regular-size fella."

He tossed Bruce a spare set of clothing, which he gratefully accepted.

"Thanks."

The guard watched him for a few moments, and seemed to consider something before he spoke again, "Are you an alien?"

"What?!"

"From outer space; an alien?"

"No."

"Well then, son, you've got a condition."

Bruce chuckled humorlessly. That was putting it lightly, but the man seemed curious about Bruce's response.

"Something wrong, son?"

Too many things were wrong to even know where to start. He might not have hurt anyone with his fall, but if he fell from the Helicarrier, (which seemed likely), he might have hurt people onboard before he fell. He maybe even hurt Tony, and given his last memory was Agent Romanov trying he talk him down, he probably hurt her. He was dangerous. He had lost control, and he should probably leave before he hurt anyone else.

Then again, Loki was planning to attack. He had some sort of alien army, and he was planning to rain chaos down on New York City. Countless people could die, the Avengers could be outmatched, and maybe Hulk could help. He would certainly be harder to bring down than any of the others . . .but he might attack aliens and New Yorkers alike. Indiscriminately taking out all in his path. There were no guarantees when the Other Guy took over.

Then there was Tony to consider. He would be devastated if Bruce left, and he could be facing untold danger from Loki. However, the Hulk could also be a huge danger to Tony. He may have even hurt him already. He was definitely nearby when he Hulked out.

"I don't know what to do. What if where you could do the most damage is also where you could be the most help? What if you have someone you care about, but if you stay in their life you might destroy them, and if you leave you'll hurt them too?"

"Sounds like a lot of 'if's. 

Look, we all could do as much harm as good any time we do anything. It's not about calculations and odds. It's about doing what your heart tells you is right, and I'm guessing you already know what that is."

 _Go to Tony._ "Yes."

"Then, that's what you do."

"Is there any way for me to get to Manhattan from here? I need to get to Stark Tower."

"Here, take my bike. I don't have much need for it."

He threw the keys to Bruce, and walked him over to an old motorcycle.

"Thanks."

"Good luck, son."

With that, he started the bike, and made his way toward his home of the last several months. He only hoped he got there before things went too wrong. A thought which was quickly undermined when he saw the sky break open, and alien ships start to pour out.

"I'm coming, Tony. Hold on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the pilots were not Loki controlled in the movie, they are in this for many reasons, mainly to more directly connect him to Bruce's fall.
> 
> Two, I know there is a deleted scene with the guard. I'm borrowed from it, but changed it.


End file.
